The Grey Return
by dominicgrim
Summary: The second part of the Grey Trilogy: Carver and his lover Arika are forced to deal with the rise of the Avatar of Fen'Harel. Who is the Avatar, and why will its coming change Carver Hawke's life forever. Read on and see. I of course do not own dragon age, I just play here. Rated teen for violence and sexual situations.
1. Hello and Goodbye

**A/N: This story is Part 2 of **_**the Grey Trilogy,**_** if you have not read **_**The Grey Year**_**, it might be helpful. Plus, my story **_**Love and Legacy**_** takes place between this one and the Grey Year as well. Well, without further ado, I present the next chapter of this tale.**

**Dragon Age: The Grey Return**

**The Year:**** 9:33 Dragon Age**

**Chapter 1: Hello and Goodbye**

"You sweating," Carver said with an amused smirk.

His companion glared at him.

"I am not," Nigel snarled, "I'm fine…just leave me alone."

The former Templar shifted nervously, He was trying hard to remain calm, to not show how excited he was.

Carver was trying very hard not to laugh, the former Templar turned Grey Warden had been both his mentor and friend for almost two years now. He had helped see Carver through his first year in the order, not to mention the fact that he had trained him in the Templar disciplines. Nigel was a fearless warrior, a great asset to the order as a whole.

Normally he was unshakeable.

_That was not the case today…_

… _And all because of a girl._

Carver could sympathize.

IOI

The Grey Wardens that made up Carver's scouting group were once again in the City of Cumberland, in the country of Nevarra. Cumberland was one of the largest seaports this side of the Waking Sea, and therefore one of the best places for the wardens to move large numbers of people.

In the past, the wardens would have used the Cities of Kirkwall or Starkhaven for such things, but political problems in both made that impossible these days. The throne of Starkhaven was currently being disputed, and the Templars of the Chantry had a death grip on the city of Kirkwall.

Grey Wardens were not welcome in either city.

The two wardens stood on the docks, waiting for the ship from Orlais, not surprisingly, their silver and blue armor drew the attention of passersby. The wardens came to these docks very rarely and usually only on matters of great import.

For Nigel this matter was.

IOI

The two warriors were both shining examples of what people expected grey wardens to be like. Both broad shouldered and well built. Nigel stood a bit taller than Carver, with long dark hair and gray eyes. He had lived in a small village in Rivain before joining the chantry, and then later the Grey Wardens, when the Blight had risen in Ferelden he had wished to go and fight; he thought it his destiny to die in glorious battle fighting the hordes of the Archdemon.

The Hero of Ferelden spoiled those plans.

Carver was Ferelden by birth. Pale skinned with short black hair, and sky blue eyes. The son of an apostate mage, and a Kirkwall noblewoman, he had never settled anywhere until he was eight. Both his brother Garrett and his sister Bethany had inherited magical talent from their father. Which meant the Templars of the Chantry pursued them doggedly; eager to see his siblings caged in the circle of magi. Carver had been born without magic himself, he could sense it, but that was it.

It always made him feel like he was the idiot in the room, the one born weaker than his siblings. He came to resent that, not to mention the constant moving.

It sometimes seemed that the Hawke family was destined to wander forever. That is when his family came to the village of Lothering; they lived there for the next ten years. They had had a good life for the most part, but then Father had died. Garrett tried to do good by them, and he was succeeding, at least until they heard reports of Blight in the Korkari Wilds…

…Until the darkspawn had come.

Carver had ended up joining the Ferelden army; he wanted to do his part, only to see his military career end at the battle of Ostagar, when Loghain MacTir, the Teyrn of Gwaren, abandoned the king and his men to die on the battlefield.

Unopposed by the traitorous Teyrn, the spawn had marched north, with Lothering right in their path.

Carver could not abandon his family; he had seeing what the spawn had done at Ostagar.

He had needed to act.

He had deserted the first chance he had. He had returned to his family. They barely escaped the darkspawn horde, and not without loss.

_Bethany._

Carver still felt pain from that memory, his twin sister Bethany killed right before his eyes, and he had been unable to stop it.

It was no longer safe to stay in Ferelden, not with the Blight and the civil war. The Hawkes had fled to Kirkwall, his Mother's ancestral home. It was then they learned that their family had fallen on hard times, and had lost its wealth and prestige.

Garrett had decided it was best to reclaim their place in Kirkwall society.

He wanted to reclaim their family name and title. Carver felt that they needed to blaze their own way, but Garrett had chosen to ignore him, he still was the younger brother. It was his duty to back Rett's play.

And he had, he fought side by side with his elder brother, helped in him gather the coin he needed for the expedition.

_And that was where everything had changed for Carver._

Garrett had led them on a deep roads expedition, right into the very home of the darkspawn, the treasure that they would find there would set the Hawkes up for life, and despite hardship and betrayal they had been successful. Garrett had found enough treasure to be as rich as any lord. Once they had brought the treasure back of course.

Treasure was not the only think waiting in the Deeps however, as Carver had discovered personally.

_Sadly, he had brought something else back from that mission._

He had become infected with the darkspawn taint, otherwise known as the Blight sickness. He became sick, he was dying. Fortunately, Anders, one of their allies had once served in the Grey Wardens, and he had known how to find them.

Wardens were immune to the darkspawn taint, if Carver was to survive, he would need to join the order.

Anders and Garrett had turned him over to them, and the rest, as the bards say…was history.

Carver smiled slightly, for years he had struggled to step out of his apostate brother's shadow. The wardens had finally given him that opportunity. The work was dark and bloody, but it was necessary. He had even managed to become something of a minor celebrity when he slew a broodmother. In the wardens, he found that he was respected. He had even discovered a family of sorts in the order, one that did not see him as Garrett Hawke's mundane little brother.

He had even met a girl.

His beloved… Arika.

Arika, daughter of Arik and Elosia was a Reaver from the mountains of Nevarra. Athletically built with foxlike features, icy blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and a tattooed chin and she was one of the finest young wardens in the order. Her manner could be a bit cold and ruthless at times, but given their work what could one expect.

Yes, Arika could be a little bit intimidating sometimes. Both a beauty and a fearsome fighter, how could Carver not have become smitten.

_She was like some deadly warrior goddess,_ Carver thought, _as fierce in bed as she was on the battlefield._

He chuckled at the thought, few would think a Nevarran Reaver could be sexy, of course they had never seen one in the throes of passion, or even experienced that passion for themselves.

Carver had.

Even fewer could imagine that a reaver had a soft side, they were deadly warriors that took power by feasting on the blood of dragons, wound them, and they would frenzy, becoming even more dangerous. The dragon blood in their veins also allowed them to kill with a mere look.

Arika possessed all these abilities, few could imagine such a fierce warrior finding love, but with Carver she had. For him alone she was a warm and yielding maiden.

He thanked the Maker for that.

She had been his trainer when he had first joined, that was how they had first met, and the two had become close, finally in this very city, the two had become lovers.

It was rare that the two of them were not together, fighting t each other's side. They had faced many dangers together, for almost a year and a half now they had spent their time fighting and loving.

He was starting to wonder if now would be the time to take the next step.

To claim his Arika in the eyes of the chantry, he wondered…he wondered…

_He wondered if it was time to ask her to marry him?_

He loved her, this she knew, but he was unsure if she would commit to such a thing.

She had very little use for what she called the lowland faith.

He would speak with the one they were waiting for; Arika had always respected her opinion.

She would know what to do next.

IOI

The ship from Orlais had finally arrived.

Nigel searched the decks with his eyes, nervously searching for one certain passenger.

Carver chuckled; it was hilarious to see his friend so distracted.

"I don't see her/" Nigel said panicking slightly, "What…what if she missed the ship? What if something happened to her?"

"Calm down," Carver said, "I think she knows a thing or two about keeping herself safe."

Nigel glared at him; clearly he did not share Carver's confidence.

Carver smiled, he pointed up the gangway of the ship.

Nigel looked up, he visually relaxed.

There…there she was.

A lone grey warden disembarked from the ship. She wore a hooded black travel cloak, her staff tapped lightly on the deck as she walked. Like the two men, she wore the gambeson of the order, only with no armor over it.

As a mage she needed little.

"Hello Siobhan," Carver said bowing slightly.

The mage removed her hood revealing a head of curly orange hair, Siobhan had been the scouting group's healer when he had first joined, and she had spent the better part of the last year teaching in Orlais.

She was also Nigel's lover. The two had grown up together, but were separated when Siobhan was sent to the circle. He had joined the Templars to remain close to her, to protect her. When she had been transferred to the circle in Ferelden, he had tried to get transferred there as well.

Siobhan had fled the circle during the Blight; she had been working outside it when the civil war caused the death of her Templar watchers. She had fled Ferelden after that. Seeking out Nigel through his last letter to her, it was not surprising that she agreed to join the order to be closer to him, her best friend.

The man she had always loved.

They had only been lovers for a short time before she had gotten reassigned; the two had conversed through letters for months.

_Now she was back._

"Hello Nigel," she said shyly.

He was stone-faced. For a moment, she had feared that she had angered him, what had she…

He busted out laughing; he scooped the mage into his arms and spun her.

She giggled happily, his spinning making her dizzy.

"Nigel! Maker's breath Nigel put me down! I…Mmph!"

He silenced her, pulling her into a deep and passionate kiss.

Carver looked away, trying to give his friends at least some respect.

Nigel put her down, he broke the kiss, Siobhan was left breathless, she stayed in his arms fearing that she would fall in her dizziness.

"Hello My lord," she purred.

"Milady," he replied.

'My apologies you two," Carver said, he hated reminding them that he was here, but duty still called, "But we really need to get back. Arika is…"

"Arika is here?" Siobhan brightened at the news; she had always considered the Reaver one of her best friends.

Carver nodded, he led the way.

"Why did Arika not come with you?" Siobhan asked.

"She said she had to meet someone," Carver replied, "Apparently they would meet with her and her alone."

"Sounds cryptic," Siobhan said.

"It is just Arika being Arika," Nigel said dismissively, "We should hurry back, before she drinks up all the ale."

Carver chuckled; his love was going to like seeing Siobhan again.

It…it would be just like old times!

IOI

Arika fell to the cobblestones, blood gushed from the wound in her side.

The reaver spat blood, she…she did not even have enough strength left to frenzy!

She was cold…so very cold!

She realized that she was going to bleed to death.

Her killer stood over her, his great sword gripped firmly in one hand, her blood stained it red. The same color of the cobblestones on which she lay. He was dressed in leather armor and furs, the mark of one of the reaver clans of Nevarra marked his chest…

It was the mark of her clan.

"You should have killed me," the man said thoughtfully.

She coughed; she reached across the cobbles, trying to seize her imperial edge.

He kicked the Tevinter sword out of her reach.

"You should have killed me," he repeated.

She gasped, it…it was getting hard to breathe.

"I couldn't," she groaned weakly, "I…I can't!"

The reaver shook his head; the look he gave her was one of pity.

"You have grown weak," he said.

She was shivering; she looked into his eyes, and saw the pity there.

She nodded; yes…she had grown weak.

About half a year ago, she had fallen under the sway of the darkspawn magister Corypheus, one of the original betrayers, the ones who brought the darkspawn into Thedas.

Something had changed in her after that, she…she questioned herself constantly; she no longer leapt to battle. The cry of the warrior was a sound she no longer heard.

_She…she had grown weak._

She forced herself to her knees. She…she refused to cower, if her clansman was going to end her life, she would die a reaver, not some weak girl whimpering on her knees.

She pushed her hair back, offering the man her neck.

She leaned forward, letting his blade touch her throat.

She looked up into his eyes, seeing the mercy that awaited her.

_All she had to do was let go._

"I am ready brother," she said bravely, "Please…send me home!"

He nodded.

"May the dragons take you to your rest," he said.

He raised his sword, raised it for a decapitating blow.

Arika smiled. She was ready.

She was going home.

**A/N: Not what you expected huh? The Grey Return is just getting started good readers, and with it the return of someone who will shake Carver's world to his core!**

**See you next time!**

**DG**


	2. Act of Mercy

**Chapter 2: Act of Mercy**

This was not the Arika he remembered.

The reaver looked down upon the young woman with a mix of pity and disdain. What in the name of the dragons had happened to her? The Arika he remembered had been strong; she had slain the high elder for betraying their clan without one thought of the consequences. That girl…that girl had been strong, indomitable, he had respected her for that…

He…he did not know who this was?

He raised his blade, in the name of what she had been, in the love he had felt for her…

He would gladly end her life.

This would be his mercy, a final act of kindness.

She looked up at him, unafraid, accepting his judgment.

He nodded; this was a reaver's courage. He…

He was under attack!

The young man came out of nowhere, one minute the reaver had been ready to end his fallen sister's suffering, and now…

He was fighting for his life.

Clad in the blue and silver armor of the Grey Wardens the young man engaged the reaver, his blue eyes flashed with fury.

"Get away from her you bastard!" Carver growled.

The reaver glared at him, "You should learn your place, this is not your fight!"

"You won't harm her," Carver spat angrily, "You hurt her, you deal with me!"

The reaver's eyes widened beneath his hood.

Was…was this…Arika's mate?

Her mate, a man who had defeated her!

Excellent!

He may yet find the death he had sought.

"The only way to save her is to kill me," He said swinging his sword in challenge.

Carver smiled predatorily.

"If that is how it had to be," the young warden said, "So be it."

The two warriors flew viciously at each other, their great swords flashing.

A battle that would end in someone's death…

Just like the reaver had wanted.

IOI

They had been on their way back to the tavern when they had felt it.

Carver tensed, he felt a wave of pain and hopelessness sweep through him…

…Through the taint in his blood.

It was not common knowledge, but wardens could sense more than just darkspawn with their tainted blood. It was through the taint that they were all connected, it was a connection almost as strong as family.

The darkspawn used that connection to communicate with their Archdemons and the rest of the horde.

The taint was never that strong in the wardens, but sometimes, sometimes they could feel intense emotions when one of their number was injured or dying.

Carver, given his closeness to Arika, had sensed his lover's pain, and her acceptance of death.

It had drawn him like a beacon; he followed it right to the alley where the two reavers were fighting.

He attacked the man viciously.

He would pay for hurting Arika.

_He would die for it!_

IOI

"_No. Stop."_

Arika tried to be heard, but with her blood loss, her voice was barely a whisper.

She tried to rise, but her wounds had weakened her too much.

_Carver had to stop. He did not understand!_

"Arika!" she tried to roll over, to look at who was speaking to her.

Nigel was at her side, the former Templar had his blade ready, defending his wounded fellow warden. Next to him…

"Siobhan," Arika said smiling weakly.

"Don't speak," the Ferelden mage said, she began to pump healing magic into the injured reaver. The wound began to close, but the blood loss…

It would still be iffy if she would survive.

"Have you come for my funeral, my friend," Arika asked, "That pleases me, the ones we care about…?"

"Shut up Arika," Siobhan said crossly, "You're not going to die so just shut up," she looked at Nigel, "Love, keep that bastard back, I don't want him interrupting me."

"He will not touch either of you," Nigel promised, "though…I suspect he will not be alive much longer. Carver has death in his eyes."

At the mention of Carver, Arika tried to sit up.

Siobhan forced her back down.

"No," she cried, "Carver can't, he mustn't!"

"Arika, what are you trying to do?" the mage asked, "That bastard tried to kill you!"

Arika shook her head, they did not understand, they were lowlanders, they would not understand.

"No," she gasped, "Wanted me to kill…him."

"What?" Siobhan gasped.

"Save him my friend," she whimpered, "Please, don't…don't let Carver kill…kill my…my brother."

Arika lost consciousness.

Siobhan could not believe it, was…was Arika saying what she thought she was saying?

She looked at Nigel.

"We have to stop this," she said.

"How," Nigel asked.

Siobhan rose, magic began to crackle from her fingertips.

She would not let this madness go on a moment longer.

IOI

"You fight well," the reaver growled, he was grinning from ear to ear.

Carver intended to wipe that smirk right off his face.

He would pay!

He would pay!

"Carver stop!"

"Not now Siobhan," he called back, the two warriors blades came together again. Carver recognized that he had to end this fast. He could not try to simply injure this reaver. Pain meant nothing to him, and if he was wounded, he might frenzy.

Carver did not want to be caught up in that.

"Arika demands you both stop!" Nigel called out.

"She has no say in this," the male reaver spat.

Carver parried his blows, but he was no longer on the attack, he was defending himself.

_Arika…she wanted him to stop?_

_Why?_

"Stop now Reaver," Siobhan shouted, her magic cracked in the alleyway, "Put down your blade, or I will do it for you!"

The reaver laughed.

"You cannot stop this Lowlander," he said, "I have come to find my death. If Arika could not give it to me, than one of you will!"

Carver was shocked.

The man…wanted to die?

He certainly did not fight like he wanted to.

The young warden was starting to feel like he was being manipulated.

He did not like that.

"Who are you?" he growled, blocking another blow.

"Does it matter," the reaver purred, "I have harmed your woman, you must kill me now!"

Carver snorted, so…this was all some type of game.

He was not in the mood to play.

He pushed the reaver back against the wall.

The reaver's hood fell back.

Carver gasped.

The man's face was familiar; he had a short goatee, with dirty blonde hair. His chin was tattooed in similar fashion to Arika's. He also had the same foxlike features, and icy blue eyes.

He…he could have been related to Arika.

_Why would she want me to stop?_

Carver realized the answer now.

The young man looked like Arika for a reason.

He **was **related to her!

The young reaver glared at Carver.

"I am Arin, son of Arik and Elosia," the reaver said, "And I demand the right of blood!"

_Son of Arik and…_

_**Shit!**_

Carver grimaced.

_This man…this was one of Arika's brothers!_

He…he would not kill one her siblings!

Arin pushed him back, he had blood in his eyes, it was clear that he would not stop until one of them was dead.

The reaver charged.

Fortunately, Carver did not have to give him what he wanted.

"Siobhan," he said, "Now!"

The mage gestured.

IOI

Arin tried to charge his sister's mate. The boy would kill him; he would give him no choice!

The reaver slammed into nothing, he gasped in surprise.

He struggled, he…he could not move! A wall of nothing had surrounded him!

He was trapped!

"**Noooo!"**

Arin fought mightily, _this…this could not be __**happening!**_

He was trapped! This wasn't right! He had come to this lowland city to find his death, **a warrior's death!**

**They had no right to trap him like an animal!**

There was no honor in this!

"Coward," he spat, "You would turn to a lowland mage to save you! You are unworthy of my sister! It amazes me you can even please her in bed! May the dragons spit on your bones! You are not…"

Carver endured his insults, but that did not mean he had to like it.

He stood eye to eye with the reaver.

Arin could not move; the field prevented him from harming anyone.

Carver was not so bound.

He punched him in the face.

Arin blinked, his eyes rolled back into his head. He sank into unconsciousness.

IOI

"Shut up," Carver spat

The young warden shook his head, he…he was still not sure what this was all about.

_He would need to find out._

He flexed his fingers, even with his gauntlet on that had hurt.

_Reaver's had very strong jaws._

He went to Arika, the battle now over; he needed to be at her side.

Siobhan released the field holding her brother.

Nigel went quickly to the young man's side; he bound him with his own cloak.

_They did not want to risk the fearsome young warrior attacking again._

The scuffle had drawn the attention of the city guard; they came to see if anyone needed any aid.

Siobhan dismissed them, no one was seriously hurt, or at least beyond her aid. This was Grey Warden business.

The order preferred to keep it as such.

The guards obeyed, the mark of the white griffon still had great respect here in Cumberland.

IOI

Carver kneeled down next to Arika, she looked so pale, her lips had turned a little blue.

He gave the mage a worried look.

"She is weak," the mage informed him, "But with food and bed rest, I think she will recover."

Carver nodded.

_Thank the Maker for that!_

Nigel secured their prisoner the best he could. It would have been better if they had turned this madman over to the city guard.

Both Carver and Siobhan disagreed.

There was more going on here than they knew.

Only Arin and Arika could explain it to them.

The three decided to leave Cumberland tonight. Carver would carry Arika. Nigel would secure her brother.

They would return to the rest of their scouting group. Stroud and the others would likely be interested in what happened here as well.

Nigel gave Siobhan a sad look; she was supposed to have come for a simple visit, a chance for them to spend some time together.

Now…it seemed that they had been caught up in Arika's problems.

It just wasn't fair.

Siobhan brushed her lover's cheek, she smiled warmly at him.

"We are together again my lord," she purred, "That is all I need to enrich my heart and soul. Arika needs us, she is my friend, both our friend. We must aid her."

Nigel nodded; duty came first for them…again.

It seemed that it was the story of their lives.

A warden's duty never ended, not while they still drew breath.

They rode out of the city that very night, Carver held the sleeping Arika in his arms, keeping her from falling from the saddle.

He was still very worried, what had happened?

Why had her brother come down from the mountains?

Why had he wanted to die so badly?

So many questions hopefully there would be time to find some answers.

IOI

Meanwhile, back in the Grey Wardens camp life continued for the rest of Carver's companions.

Stroud, their senior warden and leader read from an old threadbare novel. He had carried everywhere; he intended to finish the book even if it took him the next year.

If only they were not always finding trouble.

Veryan and Arthian, also known as the twins were playing cards. The two elven rogues complained constantly that the other was cheating, and usually had to be separated after a pint or two.

They had been identical twins once, but Arthian had been badly injured fighting a brood mother, lost his left eye, and part of one arm. Despite his loss, the man was still a clever rogue. He claimed that his injuries had not hampered his abilities in the least…

Plus, the ladies loved the scars.

Lindariel, otherwise known as Lin, was the group's archer, a dark hair elven woman with copper colored eyes and dark hair. She had fought at Carver's side during the Corypheus mess as well. She did not thing the others truly believed what they faced that day, but that did not matter. She knew.

She worked quietly, making new arrows for her quiver. Her thoughts occupied with honeyed daydreams of Fenris, Carver's elven friend in Kirkwall. The elven warrior had won her heart in the short time they had been together.

She found herself hoping for a chance to slip away and go see him.

Alistair was currently tending to his tent; it had been damaged in a storm the other night. He was a broad shouldered young man with spikey reddish blonde hair, and a sarcastic tongue.

He was also something of a celebrity; he was one of the heroes of the last Blight! Together with his wife the Grey Warden Lyna, the two had killed the Archdemon Urthemiel and saved all of Thedas.

Alistair had been banished from his homeland, it was rumored that he was the bastard son of King Maric, and their fore the rightful king of Ferelden. Queen Anora, his late brother Cailan's widow had banished Alistair, she would suffer no rivals to her throne.

Not that Alistair minded of course, he hated being separated from his Dalish wife, but duty endured, she was Warden Commander of Ferelden, and he was here.

_That was what mattered now._

The final member of their group was the most troublesome. Locien, or Loki as he preferred to be called, was a Dalish mage and served as the group's healer. He had an acidic nature that kept even the elves in their group away.

Of course…he was not here to make friends; he was on a mission of destiny…

…A mission of prophecy.

After years of work, at last the time was approaching, soon the stars would be in proper alignment, and all the items that he required would be his.

He would finally be able to summon the Avatar of Fen'Harel into this world. The trickster of the Dalish gods, also known as the dread wolf, Fen'Harel's followers had been planning this night for centuries.

The dawn of a new day for the elves, the rise of their empire!

The humans and dwarves would be subjugated, those who survived anyway. The rest would be…dealt with.

Loki smiled; he could not wait to see that day, to bask in the glory of the Avatar.

_It was almost time._

Soon, they would be ready.

_Soon…the world would change forever!_


	3. A Discussion of Life and Death

**Chapter 3: A Discussion of Life or Death**

The wardens rode hard for their camp, not stopping to rest for anything.

Arin remained bound so that he would not cause them any kind of trouble, not that he offered any. He refused to speak, only staring blankly in the face of their questions.

The male reaver had fallen silent, he glared hatefully at them for taking him prisoner, had he been free he likely would have tried to continue the fight that he started back in Cumberland.

Arika finally regained consciousness. She looked at her brother with pity in her eyes.

He looked at her, for the first time, warmth showed in the cold blue eyes.

"Hello, Little Cub," he said softly.

She smiled weakly.

"Hello brother," she said, "It…it had been too long."

He nodded, falling silent once more.

Carver looked at her, how could she look on a man who had nearly killed her with such…affection?

He asked her about it, hoping that their time together might give him some incite, or at least garner some answers.

"It…it is personal, beloved," she told him, "Something between a brother and a sister, please try and understand."

Carver winced, yes, he understood the bond between a brother and sister, he had had a sister himself…

…_Once._

They rode on in silence then, finally reaching the warden camp.

Stroud met them with a raised eyebrow, trying to make sense of the bound prisoner at their side.

Once Arin had been secured, the wardens met to discuss what had happened.

Stroud listened patiently; it seemed that they had picked up a stray.

Considering what he had heard out of their base in Ansburg recently, it was just another problem.

_One of many._

IOI

Loki snorted angrily; he did not see why Carver and Arika had dropped this problem into their laps. Why hadn't Carver just killed the other reaver?

It wasn't like they did not have a spare?

"So let me get this straight," the Dalish said frowning, "Now we have two shem barbarians in camp, and this new one might be suicidal…wonderful."

Carver glared at the Dalish; trust Loki to say exactly the wrong thing.

"Shut up, Loki," Lin spat.

"Yes, your being an ass elf," Nigel said frowning, "Mind your tongue."

The Dalish mage gave the former Templar an unpleasant smirk.

"No one seems to mind when Alistair is being an ass. I was just trying to play along."

"Heeeey," Alistair replied.

"Enough," Stroud said raising his hand, "I do not understand your reasoning for bringing the boy here Carver. Why not simply leave him for the city guard?"

"They probably would have executed him for attacking a warden Stroud," the young warden replied, "and besides, I did not want to take the chance of him escaping and coming after Arika again. I wanted to know why he did that in the first place."

Stroud nodded, it made sense he supposed, Arika was a dangerous opponent herself, her brother likely shared those skills.

He turned to Arika.

"Tell me," he asked her, "What is going on here? Why would your brother seek his death? Why come to you?"

Arika fidgeted. This…this was personal, it should not be discussed with lowlanders, they were not of the blood, they would never understand.

Somehow, she had to make them try.

"By the laws of my people," she informed Stroud, "Any reaver that encounters me is supposed to bring me my death, I am an outcast after all, exiled under pain of death."

"So this was all about the laws of your people?" Alistair said.

"Partly," she admitted, "Arin had been…disgraced. He was not judged as I was, but…his time in the clan is done," She flinched, with Arin coming here that meant that only Father and Alen remained, her family had now been almost completely annihilated.

Mother, Alden, Elix, they were all dead, and now she and Arin were both exiles, her by law, he by choice.

She cursed their fortune.

How could the dragons be so cruel?

_Because cruelty was the way of the mountains, the soft and weak do not survive here, that is the way of things._

It was the first lesson, she had been taught during her training, it seemed that her time here in the lowlands had made her forget that.

She frowned, had she truly fallen so far?

Carver really should have let Arin kill her; it would have been for the best.

"There is only one way that he can win back his honor now," She continued, "To die a valorous death in battle against a worthy foe," she shivered slightly, wrapping her cloak tighter about her.

"He thought I… a worthy foe," she continued, "he invoked the right of family and blood. A duel to the death was called; it is considered an act of mercy among my people. A warrior does not hold back, even facing the one he or she loves, death in this matter is a mercy. I…I should have killed him. I…I was not strong enough."

Carver listened to what his lover had to say, and more importantly, what she did not. He knew Arika well enough now to know when she was lying.

She was lying now.

He suspected that she could have killed her brother, but had chosen not to. She had been willing to die by his hand, rather than spill his blood.

She had…she had been willing to die.

She would have left him.

He glared at her.

This was not the first time something like this had happened. Since that business with Corypheus, Arika had seemed much more fatalistic than she had before. She flung herself against odds that were far greater than she had in the past. Carver knew her skills, he knew how tough she was, but she…she did not seem to care about her life anymore.

Perhaps, Arin was not the only one trying to die in this camp.

He left the others; he was fuming at his lover's arrogance, her presumption.

Did her life mean nothing to her now?

Did he mean nothing to her?

IOI

Arin listened intently as the wardens discussed his future.

He did not try to free himself from his bonds. If Arika's companions decided to execute him, so be it. He would die without honor, perhaps that was the will of the dragons.

He was already viewed as weak by his clan mates.

Perhaps, this was his final reward.

An honorless death at the hands of lowlanders, his throat slit like some food animal?

Perhaps, that was what he deserved.

Stroud rose, the wardens circle broke up, he advanced on Arin.

The reaver straightened, if he was to meet his death he would meet it as a man.

I will not falter.

I will not beg.

Stroud stood over him, dagger in hand.

He glared at the senior warden, Antivan by birth, he suspected.

A fitting assassin for a failure of a reaver.

"Do you wish death?" Stroud asked him.

"I wish an honorable death," he replied, "To die fighting worthy foes, to die with purpose…meaning."

"Most say that death is meaningless," Lin chimed in.

"Typical lowland thinking elf," Arin spat, "None can know their purpose until the end. I…I seek mine."

The senior warden had thought hard on this, and he had discussed it with Arika. He had thought to recruit Arin into the order, but she had dismissed that idea. If her brother was to die in the joining she would consider that an ignoble death.

She would consider such a thing an unforgivable insult.

Stroud had no wish to insult the girl, so…they had come up with another plan.

"I understand," he began, "That once a reaver has taken a contract, they are unable to harm their employer until the contract is done, is this true?"

Arin nodded, that was the way of the clans.

"I also understand that if a reaver dies by his own hand, he is damned, is this true?"

Again Arin nodded, yet, he did not understand.

Stroud reached down with his dagger.

Arin tensed…

He cut away the young man's bonds. Arin rubbed the circulation back into his wrists.

Arika tossed a bag at his feet. He opened it to find a purse full of silvers.

He looked up at the senior warden.

"You have been hired," Stroud informed him, "Both as a scout and fighter for our group. You will be paid well, the contract is yours until you decide to leave or are killed in battle."

Arin picked up the coin, a hint of a smile played across his lips. He saw Arika's hand in this.

_Wise of you little cub, very wise._

"The enemies we face are dangerous, the darkspawn and ghouls are merciless, and will be even more so to you because you are not immune to the taint as we are," Stroud continued, "They should satisfy your desire to find a worthy death, but you will fight only for us. No running off seeking your death on your own, and no attacking any of my people. Are we clear warrior?"

"Yes ser," Arin said rising, "A contract is a contract, I am yours wardens, command me."

Stroud nodded, one problem solved.

HE turned to the others.

"To bed the rest of you, standard watch duties for those assigned them. We leave for Ansburg in the morning. A new warden commander has been chosen, and he has requested the presence of this scouting group."

The others acknowledged; it seemed that they were going home sooner than any of them had expected.

It was unclear if this was a good or bad thing.

They would just have to wait and find out.

IOI

Loki smiled to himself, this was good.

He needed to confer with the other elves in the fortress. He had spent the last few month converting many of the servants there to the Children of Fen'Harel. Over fifty elves there now awaited the coming of the Avatar with fanatic desire.

Soon the stars would be in the proper alignment. Soon they would seek out the last two items to complete the summoning.

Soon, he would stand on Sundermount, and welcome the Avatar of Fen'Harel into this world.

Loki could not wait! The Avatar would be a supreme being, mortal, but born with the powers of the dread wolf, the master of the hounds!

He would sweep across the Free Marches. The lands would be cleansed; the Dalish could almost see it. A flood of werewolves sweeping over the land. For that was said to be one of the powers of the Avatar, to turn men into beasts.

Kirkwall would fall. Then Starkhaven, then Ostwick, then Ansburg, the entire world would be engulfed.

Some dwarves and shems would be spared; their labors would be needed to build the new elvhen imperium! The survivors would be herded into Alienages, kept as pets by the new elvhen elite.

Last them feel what it was like to live like beggars in the cities of their betters!

The avatar would rule this new world, with his loyal subject Locien at his side.

A new world for them all, all who scoffed at Loki would be punished!

He thought about what he would do with his warden companions? Alistair would be made a wolf, Carver and Arika too; they would be good hunters for the pack.

Lin might convert the twins too, but he was not holding his breath.

All elves were worthy of seeing the new order, but some…some…

Were more worthy than others.

IOI

Arika lay in their tent, waiting for Carver to return.

She…she felt worried, Carver would have many questions for her, questions that he would demand answers.

She was not sure what she would say.

She heard the tent flap open, Carver slipped inside.

She turned to look at him.

He looked tired, his turn at watch done, but there was a hardness in his eyes now, something that had not been there before.

It cowed her slightly.

She turned away from him, away from his anger.

She heard him sigh heavily.

"Do you want to die?" he asked her.

She did not respond, what was there to say.

_She…she suspected that he knew the answer._

"Does your life mean nothing to you anymore? Do I mean nothing to you?"

She rose, **how dare he**…he did not understand! If she was too weak to fight, to carry on her mission.

_She was unworthy of him as well._

They stared at each other, both seeking answers…

Both too proud to say what was needed.

Finally…they both gave up.

_This had become pointless!_

They lay down, both facing away from the other.

The distance between them in the tent may only have been less than a finger length, but to them…

It had become a chasm.

They went to sleep angry that night, neither knowing what was to come next.

Neither knowing where to start.


	4. The New Order

**Chapter 4: The **_**New**_** Order**

The warden fortress was in an uproar. Warriors rushed back and forth, servants hurried to perform their new duties, and officers found themselves being called in to discuss their more recent activities, with both good or bad consequences.

The new warden commander had decided to make waves.

His name was Cesare, formerly Prince Cesare D'Alviano. He was fairly young, with olive skin and dark black hair, and hard brown eyes, some said he was too young to be a commander, only in his early thirties, but he had become a warden at a young age. His predecessor had spoken well of him, they had served in the same scouting group together.

Ansburg, being the small place it was, become a hotbed of gossip. There was most talk in the base about the man. The rumor was that Cesare had been trained from birth by the Antivan Crows, that he had risen through their ranks to become their fifth talon. When a family rival became the master of crows, Cesare was to be assassinated, but escaped into the Grey Warden ranks. Even the crows were leery of assassinating one of the order.

Whatever his history, it was clear that the new commander was politically astute, far more than others who had served in the post in the past. He saw the wardens as a chance to build a massive powerbase for himself. All of Thedas owed them for defeating the Blight in Ferelden. The fact that it had been done by two surviving wardens was irrelevant.

Cesare would happily ride their success to power and fortune.

He had been called young, idealistic, and extremely ambitious.

All of these things pleased him.

He wished to expand warden power in the Free Marches. In the Anderfels, Wardens ruled over the weak nobility. He saw a chance to expand such thinking here. Dumar of Kirkwall was weakling, and Prince Goran of Starkhaven was untested and simple. The only real threat would be that Templar bitch in Kirkwall, but from what his sources claimed, this Meredith had her hands full dealing with rebellious mages, they would keep her occupied, and out of his business.

The new Commander saw this…as an opportunity.

So he had ordered the bulk of their scouting groups to return to base. He intended to address the senior wardens directly, let them know that the order was moving in a new direction.

Those that fell in line would profit, those that did not…would be left behind, but that was the way of the world.

The new commander had decided to make it so.

IOI

No sooner than Stroud and the others had arrived, they received a summons from the new Commander.

He wished to speak with both Alistair and Carver as well.

Stroud gave the others leave to see to whatever personal business they might have.

Loki broke away the quickest; he had many things to attend to here.

Carver and Arika barely acknowledged each other as they separated, the barest of touches, and the two separated.

Siobhan noticed that, she vowed to speak to her friend as soon as she got the chance. For now, she wished to spend time with Nigel; it had been far too long since they had been together.

Arika led Arin to the room he would be staying in while they were here; the two reavers spoke little of what had happened. Arika did not wish to speak of it, and Arin was now under contract. He would do what was expected of him.

Lin made her way to the home of her family. She had not seen her brothers and sisters for a while, and she wanted to make sure that Mother and Father were adjusting to life here in the fortress.

The pace of Ansburg was very different from the fishing village where she had been born. The cruel humans had blamed father when the fishing had turned sour, had burned his boat and broken his leg.

Lin had turned to banditry to feed the family, finally getting a price put on her head. The wardens had given her a new lease on life; she intended to make the best of it.

The twins made for the nearest tavern, looking for wine, women, and song. Most of the elven serving girls liked wardens. They intended to take full advantage of that.

IOI

"Ah, Stroud my old friend, it has been far too long!"

Cesare was in rare form, warm and welcoming, ushering in his three guests with smiles and offering his hand in friendship.

_No one took it, they all knew better._

The new Commander had never been Stroud's friend. They may have been fellow Antivans but that was it. The senior warden was a soldier above all else, and loyal to those he served under.

Cesare would gladly order any of their deaths if it brought him closer to his goals. Stroud had seen him do this in the past; he had never understood the old Commander's fascination with the man.

He guessed that he never would now. Still, the man was Commander now, and deserved his respect, so he gave what he could.

"Commander," the senior warden said with a curt nod. He recognized the false friendship of the crows when he saw it. Few would shake hands with a crow in Antiva; it was too easy for one to slip a knife into your ribs if you did.

The new commander did not take offense.

"I have been eager to meet you as well Alistair," he said grinning at the man, "It honors me to have a hero of the Blight here in Ansburg. How is your lovely wife, still elven I assume?"

The commander chuckled at his jest.

Alistair did his best to smile.

He found that he did not like the new Commander, he would be respectful, but that was it. The oily friendship thing reminded him too much of Zevran. Alistair did not hold a grudge against his old companion, but hard feelings remained, many a night he had seen the assassin sweet talking his way into Lyna's good graces. Nothing had ever happened between his future wife and the assassin, but that did not mean that he did not resent old Zev for trying.

He thanked the Maker for Lyna seeing through his bullshit.

Alistair had not believed the elf, and he certainly did not believe this…warden commander…this crow prince. Duncan, his first warden commander had been like a father to him, a man he had cared for and respected.

_Cesare was certainly, no Duncan._

Only after he had addressed the others did the Commander turn to Carver.

"I have heard much about you as well, young one. Stroud's reports speak highly of you, and I read your debriefing after that business in the Vimmark Mountains, most impressive."

"Thank you, ser," Carver responded.

"It is truly a shame that the Corypheus creature could not be taken alive for proper study," the new commander sighed.

Carver's eyes widened, was the man serious?

"Begging the Commander's pardon," Carver said, "But Corypheus was too strong, his song would have infected the entire order. Death was the only way to keep the world safe from such evil, any true warden would understand that."

Cesare's eye twitched, but his smile never faltered, if he took offense to the young warden's statement he did not show it.

_He was too cunning for that._

"Perhaps," he purred returning to his desk, he sat digging through the many reports that needed his attention.

He glanced up at his subordinates.

"I am pulling you off your normal patrol route for a while," he informed them, "The Nevarran, Orlesian, and Ferelden garrisons have grown complacent, they will need to step up their own patrols, without aid from the Free Marches."

"Our brothers may yet need our aid," Stroud reminded him.

"The Free Marches **needs **our people here," the Commander repeated, "We have neglected our duties here in favor of aiding our lessers," the Commander frowned, "I will likely be assigning your people to work closely with Senior Warden Kilir's group, you have worked together in the past, yes?"

"Nug is an old friend," Stroud nodded.

"Excellent, then you should mesh well," Cesare grinned, "For now your men shall be assigned to the base until further notice. Our forces have been spread too thin in recent years. We need to remind the people that we are still relevant."

"The Blight showed people our relevance, Commander," Alistair reminded him.

"True, but that was in Ferelden, many throughout Thedas do not even realize that a Blight took place, we will have to remind them."

He rose from his chair, that oily smile once again on his face.

"Great changes will be coming soon," he promised them, "I will need every loyal warden to see that these changes are carried out without hesitation."

His grin widened, he looked at each of them in turn.

"I….trust that I can count on men such as you, yes?"

All three wardens stood at attention.

"We serve the wardens, ser," Stroud stated, "We shall do what is expected of us."

Cesare nodded.

"That pleases me senior warden that pleases me greatly, for now…dismissed."

The three wardens left his office, the Commander's new bodyguard closed the door behind them.

The three did not speak again until they were out in the courtyard.

Alistair frowned as he looked back at the Commander's tower.

"Anyone else feel dirty?" he asked.

IOI

Solen moved quickly through the dark corridors of the warden fortress. The young elf barely paused to acknowledge the gate guard as he passed by.

He had to hurry; he did not want to miss this week's sermon.

Keeper Locien did not like to repeat himself.

Solen was young, seventeen summers with unruly black hair and bright brown eyes. He had lived here in Ansburg less than two years. He had worked in the stables here for most of that time, it was good work he supposed, and it gave him spending coin, but it did nothing to deal with the sting to his elvhen pride.

Is that all we are? Servants to the shems? Were his children and his children's children destined to be servants?

_He did not want that! they deserved better than that._

_He deserved better than __**that!**_

Solen wanted to be more than a common servant; he believed that if given a chance, he could be more than what anyone expected.

Keeper Locien agreed with his feelings, he saw much in Solen, more than the shems saw, more than his own parents saw…

…more than his elder sister saw.

He finally arrived in the old reading room where the Keeper spoke to all those who would listen. Over twenty elves crowded into the seats, they chattered excitedly, none had expected the Keeper to return so soon to Ansburg.

They saw this as a good omen.

Locien smiled when he saw the boy, he gestured for him to be seated.

Solen blushed.

The Keeper directed him to sit next to Kelinda.

Kelinda, or Kelly as she was sometimes called, had been a source of distraction for Solen for months. She had grown up here in Ansburg; her father had worked as the blacksmith's servant. He had first come to hear the Keeper's words so that he could be close to her. He had hoped to catch her eye.

He had never expected to start believing in the Dalish Wardens words.

Kelly smiled at him, making his blush darken even more.

Why? Why oh why did he have such a hard time talking to her?

It was a question that would have to remain unanswered, at least for now.

Locien began his sermon.

The young elves fell silent, hanging on his every word.

They believed in him and through him…themselves.

"The Creators have abandoned us," Loki said, "They chose to wage war on their enemies the forgotten ones. They chose, in their arrogance, to cage themselves for fear of what the other might do. Because of their cowardice, the people now suffer," Loki bowed his head in shame, "We pray to the Creators to return, and why we stand idly by, the shems and dwarves make slaves of us all."

The young elves nodded, they understood the burden they faced as elves.

"The shemlen expect us to either lick their boots, or live as beggars in their cities," Locien spat angrily, "The Dalish hide in their clans, they chose not to help you, they have abandoned you, they consider you all flat ears, unworthy of the creator's love."

Solen sneered, yes; he had heard stories of the Dalish, especially Lyna, the Hero of Ferelden. As an elf, she could have stood up for their people, helped them achieve a new level of freedom.

Instead, she abandoned them to their fate.

Few understood what they faced, few cared.

Only the Keeper cared for their future.

Only, Locien knew the truth.

"I was exiled from my clan for my views," The Dalish warden continued, "For trying to tell my people the truth. The elvhen have not been abandoned, there is one who still wants to help us. Who wants us to regain everything the shemlen took from us. One who loves us, and soon his avatar will come, and the liberation of our people will begin. Do you know of whom I speak, my children? Do you know the name of our future?"

"Fen'Harel," Solen said proudly, "The great wolf!"

"Fen'Harel, the trickster," another elven boy said, "who will finally end the joke that is human civilization. Who will restore our pride and honor?"

"Praise Fen'Harel," Kelly said, her eyes gleamed fanatically, "And praise his avatar! Will the Avatar come soon Keeper? Will the elves be free to be elves again?"

Loki smiled wickedly.

"Soon, brothers and sisters," he promised, "The stars will soon be in alignment. Soon the Avatar will walk the mortal world, and grind our so-called superiors under his conquering feet. Praise be his coming! Raise your voices and despair not my children. Praise the great wolf, the dread of all humanity!"

"Praise be!" the elves shouted fanatically, even Solen found himself caught up in their fervor.

"**Praise the great wolf!"**

"**Hail Fen'Harel!"**

IOI

Lin listened as Loki finished his sermon, her copper eyes narrowed.

What in Andraste's name did he think he was doing?

Did he get off turning these poor children into human hating fanatics!

She hid as the young elves filed out, chattering excitedly, eager for the coming of this Avatar.

She saw Solen.

She glared at the young boy.

"You missed work again today," she said.

He jumped; he turned to where the voice had come from.

He glared angrily at her.

"What I do with my time is none of your business," he snarled.

"It is when they start threatening to fire you," she said, "The rest of the children look up to you Solen, you should not be here."

"I should just stick to the stables, yes?" he asked with contempt in his voice, "Just obey orders like a good little elf?"

"You have a good life here," she reminded him, "Much better than I had when I was your age. Don't you get it, if things work out here, you…you will never have to worry about being hungry, never have to worry about turning to thievery to feed yourself. Damn it Solen, I want a better life for you than that."

The young elf sneered.

"You sound like Mother," he snorted, "No offense sister, but I already have one of those."

"Mother is worried about you brother," she told him, "Father too, we just want you to be happy."

"Then stay out of my way," he said angrily, "Locien is right, we shouldn't be happy with the humans' scraps, we should be prepared to make our own way and seize the future for ourselves!"

Lin frowned, why did her little brother have to be so stubborn? Did he not see that all that hate that Loki was teaching him would just get him into trouble?

_Why did he not understand?_

"You should come and listen to the Keeper, sister," Solen advised her, "Maybe you would not act like such a flat-ear all the time, maybe…just maybe you would learn what it is like to be elvhen."

He stormed off then, leaving her shocked.

Solen had always been a good boy; he knew that she loved him, that everything she had done was for the good of their family.

She loved that little boy.

She **missed **that little boy.

She watched him go, pain shining in her eyes.

_Oh Solen, what is happening to you?_


	5. Sparring

**A/N: The chapters are coming fast for this one, maybe I just want to get to the part with the Avatar LOL. Anyways, enjoy chapter five.**

**Chapter 5: Sparring**

"I don't know what to do, Carver," Lin growled, "Every time I try to talk to him, he just tears into me…I…I think he hates me."

Carver paused, he had been attacking one of the training dummies, Lin had come to him after her talk with her little brother. He understood the pain his friend was in, but…he understood where Solen was coming from too.

Not too long ago…he had been the angry little brother, trying to find his own way in the world. There had been a time when he and Garrett could not say two civil words to each other.

The fact that Lin was trying to understand was a step of from Garrett.

_Carver would likely have done better if Lin had been his older sibling._

He smiled slightly.

It was interesting what a little time and perspective could do.

"Would you like to me to talk with him," he offered, "Believe me, I know what he is going through."

She frowned at him.

"What **HE** is going through," she snorted, "I know what he is going through, I'm going to put him through a window if he does not stop acting like such a child!"

Carver chuckled.

_Maybe he was lucky that Garrett was not like Lin._

"It isn't Solen that is bothering me Carver. It is Loki," she growled, "Have you not heard all the garbage he is spouting to any young elf that will listen. He is supposed to be a Grey Warden, not some Dalish prophet. How do you think the commander will react if he hears that Loki is talking of overthrowing the humans? Do you think he will go easy on Solen or anyone else that has been listening to Loki?"

Carver thought about his meeting with the Commander, Cesare did not strike him as the type to show mercy to those who threatened the things he desired, misguided or not. Someone needed to speak to Loki as well.

The elf was treading on deadly ground.

Carve turned to Lin. The archer had been a good friend to him over the last year, she had followed him into the darkness of the Vimmark Mountains, she had did her best to aid them, she had even tried to stop herself when she had fallen under Corypheus's spell. Fenris had had to knock her unconscious.

Of course, when all that had ended, she had returned to normal, she understood that she had been mind controlled…

…unlike Arika.

The young warden sighed heavily.

Carver hated this. He hated the fact that his lover saw herself as some unworthy pariah. He hated the fact that she would rather die, that she no longer valued her life.

That she would give up what they had, that she would give up on him and her.

They had barely spoken the last few days; she took night duties while he had started taking days.

They did not see each other anymore.

"Carver," Lin asked, "Are you listening to me?"

He cursed, no…he had not been.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

She gave him a pitying look, of all of their companions, she knew him almost as well as Arika did…or had.

"I was saying that I appreciate that you would try to speak with Solen, but I fear he would not listen to you. You would be just another shem sticking his nose in elven business."

"Not all humans are bad, you know," he reminded her.

"I know that," she replied, "I have fought beside humans, had humans die fighting at my side. Solen…he does not see…all he sees is what Locien has been telling him, that is all he cares about."

Carver could see how that could be a problem. Growing up, he never had time to think of the whole elf-human thing, his family had been more worried about Templars. Elves were just people in his eyes. They were smaller and had pointed ears, but beyond that, they were still people.

Maker, one of his first true crushes had been an elf, had he not joined the order, he and Merrill might have…

Well, they might have had something.

It was at that moment that Arin entered the room, the reaver watched Carver train for a few moments, evaluating his skills.

Finally, he made a decision.

He loudly cleared his throat, Carver and Lin both turned to face him.

My apologies wardens," he said with a respectful bow, "I was…I was wondering if I might spar with one of you. I am in need of training."

Carver looked at the young man with surprise, a few short days ago; they had been trying to kill each other.

Of course, he saw this as an excellent opportunity, a chance to learn more about Arika.

Perhaps, he might even find a way to help her.

Carver nodded.

"I will spar with you," he said, "but remember, this is not a death duel. No losing control or you might get hurt worse than normal."

Arin grinned.

"I have taken a contract ser," he reminded him, "Your enemies are my enemies. If it is the will of the dragons that I find my own death facing them, then so be it, but I will not damage one of my employers, not permanently anyway."

Carver grinned, if that was the way the reaver wanted to play it.

Arin drew his great sword; the two warriors circled each other.

When the fight began, it was fierce.

Neither man liked to lose.

This would be tough fight.

IOI

"Arika?"

Loud knocking drew her out of a sound sleep, knocking that refused to stop.

The reaver groaned; dragons save her, who would dare interrupt her rest?

The knocking continued.

_Who hated their life that much!_

She crawled out of bed, not even bothering to slip on a robe; they would just have to see her in her shift. She would kill them if they stared too much. She debated grabbing her sword, but thought better of it.

She would just have to kill this fool with her bare hands.

She flung open the door.

Siobhan gasped, the mage stepped back, the reaver glared at her oldest friend with cold eyes.

"I did not think you were suicidal, my friend," Arika grumbled.

The mage smiled apologetically, hoping that her friend was kidding.

"I…I was hoping…hoping to speak with you," Siobhan said innocently.

Shaking her head, Arika motioned her into the room.

Siobhan looked around; she was surprised not to see Carver here.

"What is it?" Arika growled.

The mage pulled out a bottle of wine, a rare Rivaini vintage, very strong. She had bought it before she had left Orlais.

It was, hopefully, the perfect peace offering for an angry reaver.

Arika regarded it for a moment, she gestured to a small cupboard, there were glasses there.

Siobhan went to fetch them.

The reaver flopped into a chair; she glared hatefully at the ceiling.

Siobhan sat across from her, offering her a glass.

She took it, downing it with a single gulp, the liquor burned down her throat.

Not bad, she thought.

She looked at the mage; she had this worried look that the reaver did not like very much.

"What?" Arika spat.

"Are…are you and Carver fighting?" the mage asked.

The reaver snorted.

"You need to be speaking to fight," she told her friend, "My beloved will not even speak with me," she winced, "I fear he is preparing to reject me. Once that happens, only death will remain for me. I will be as Arin is now, lost…and forgotten."

Siobhan glared at her friend, self-pity was not her way.

"Why did your brother want to kill you?"

Arika flinched, most of the others had moved passed this, they respected her wishes. Siobhan was not the type, for a lowland mage…she was extremely nosy.

Arika filled her glass again, and downed it with a single gulp.

"As I told you, Arin wanted me to kill him," she said.

"But why," the mage pushed, "Did he get banished from the clan like you did?"

"He did not," Arika seemed insulted at the very suggestion, Arin loved the clan, he would have given his life for it!

Arika fell silent, this was personal, it was none of the mage's business.

Siobhan crossed her arms over her chest. She was not leaving until her friend told her. Whatever was going on was destroying Carver and Arika.

She would not let that happen!

Glaring, at her friend, Arika finished another drink, what did the lowland mage want from her?!

"I can wait just as long as you can dearie," she reminded her friend.

Arika growled; it seemed that she would get no peace until she said something.

She sighed heavily.

"Arin…my brother, was rejected," she said quietly.

Siobhan's brow furrowed.

"Rejected?" the mage repeated.

"He had taken a mate," Arika informed her, "He had performed all the proper rituals, won victory, spilled blood in her honor, defeated her brother, and in spite of all that…she rejected him…She refused him, in front of the whole village!"

"Oh?" the mage said, her eyes widening.

Arika had spoken often of her people to Siobhan. The mage knew that such a thing was unheard of among the reavers.

A single tear fell from Arika's eyes.

"No woman among our people will have Arin now," she said angrily, "Only our younger brother Alen remains, he has taken over our mother's task as village merchant. He may yet find a mate, but it will not be from our warrior class," Arika shifted uncomfortably, "It seems that the high elder I slew had powerful friends among our people. They have chosen to make my brother an outcast. They wish to see the blood of my family die out!"

Siobhan knew Arika's tale, she had lost two of her older brothers when their high elder chose to aid a group of blood mages in murdering one of the dragon hunting clans. When the dragon hunters came for vengeance, the mages had fled, Arika's mother had died in that attack.

The reaver had killed the elder for that; she had blamed him for the death of so many of their people. She had been exiled; never again would she be allowed to see the mountains of her fathers'.

It seemed that her family was still suffering for her decision.

Siobhan frowned, it wasn't fair! Arin should not have to pay for what his sister had done!

"I have doomed my family," Arika whimpered, "First; I failed with that Corypheus creature, and now this! Arin came to me; he wished a duel to the death. He wanted to die nobly. I…I decided that it was he that deserved vengeance for this dishonor. That I needed to answer for my crime, for destroying our family. Arin was owed my death."

Siobhan put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Arika, this…this wasn't your fault."

"Arin deserved this," she spat angrily; "My blood should color his blade!"

"You did not make that girl reject him, she chose to do that."

"And now, he will wander, lost and alone," Arika said hotly, "Never knowing peace or a family of his own. My brother will die alone! That was to be my fate! I will never have a family myself, the taint within my blood denies that, that along with my sins. Carver…Carver would be better off rejecting me. I…I will destroy his life, he…he deserves to be happy."

Siobhan was speechless, she saw the love in Arika's eyes, she truly did love Carver, but she saw herself as cursed...blighted.

The mage did not believe it, but how would she make the reaver see.

How did one break years of cultural dogma?

Siobhan did not know.

There were something's that even magic could not fix.

IOI

Carver and Arin had fought for almost an hour.

The reaver was strong and fierce, but Carver's enhanced warden stamina kept the battle going, small cuts decorated both men.

Arin grinned; his sister's mate was strong…for a lowlander.

The reaver lowered his blade.

Carver looked up, surprised.

"We are done?" he asked.

"You have proven yourself," he said with a satisfied nod, "Our little cub has chosen well."

Carver sheathed his blade; thinking of Arika right now was painful.

How did he fix things?

He did not know?

"May I ask you a question Arin?' Lin said from where she was seated.

The male reaver nodded, he dunked his head in a water barrel nearby, washing off the sweat and dirt of combat.

"What would you like to know?" he said.

The elf smiled slightly.

"Why do you call Arika, Little Cub?"

Arin laughed, that was an old tale, but a happy one.

"When my sister was little, we had a bear skin rug in our home, my mother had traded for it, Arika had loved that thing."

He smiled at the memory.

"When she was four years old, she would hide beneath it, when people would come by, she would leap to her feet, growling and snarling. She even startled our father once," Arin chuckled, "She was strong even then, Father called her his little bear cub, the name stuck."

Carver grinned, images of a little blonde girl in fur and leather scaring an adult reaver danced through his thoughts.

Arika, he thought, his dearest Arika.

His smile fell away, he…he was losing her, and…

…he had no idea how to fix things.

He turned to her brother.

"Arin," he said, "Is…is there anything I can do to help your sister? How do I show her that she still has meaning, that her life has meaning?"

The young man frowned. He had been shocked at how fatalistic his sister had been during their duel. She should have killed him, Tana had rejected him, all he had left was to die honorably. Arika…she was supposed to have killed him.

_She had a life here, and a mate of her own._

He did not know why she would choose to give up on those things.

_In her shoes, he would not have._

"I…I am not sure Carver," the male reaver replied, "Our little cub was always so stubborn, all our women are like that, proud and as unyielding as the mountains that spawned us. Sometimes, that pride gets in the way; we get so caught up in honor and pride that we do not see the harm we cause."

Carver sighed.

"In other words, he said, "You don't know."

Arin shrugged.

"I would help you if I could," he replied, "Arika has much to lose here. It is I who has nothing. My life should have ended in that alley, not hers."

Lin approached the man; she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Death will come in its own good time Arin, you do not have to chase it," the archer said.

"Perhaps," he replied.

He helped them clean up the training room. All had come to this place searching for what to do next.

All they had found was more questions.

It was frustratingly human.

A moment of peace in the darkness.

_A storm was coming._

Locien and the warden commander would be bringing it soon enough…

_And the world would never again be the same._

**A/N: Next chapter, the action begins**

**DG**


	6. The Loss

**Chapter 6: The Loss**

Months passed in the warden fortress of Ansburg.

Commander Cesare continued his campaign to make the wardens of the Free Marches stronger. Fewer scouting groups were sent out, but when they were they arrived in force. Dozens of new recruits were either found or conscripted, near the end of the thirty third year, there were joinings almost every night.

Too many young men and women failed, too many needed to be laid to rest.

Siobhan found herself reassigned to her old scouting group. The Commander refused to see her released back to the Orlesians. She had helped train their mages for over a year, surely one of her students could take over those duties now. Siobhan did not mind truth be told, she had missed her friends, and she would be able to spend time with Nigel again.

It was one of the decisions that the new Commander made that she agreed with.

The Orlesian Commander complained, but Cesare refused to budge.

The needs of Ansburg had to be looked after first.

Carver did not care for the new style of command, he felt that the wardens needed to be out, traveling among the people, being visible, and aiding them where they could.

Locking themselves up in the base seemed like a very Templar thing to do, and the Templars at least had the excuse of having to watch the mages.

The wardens had none.

He and Arika were still barely talking, despite Lin and Siobhan's best efforts. Carver had even considered going to Arin, asking him to speak to Arika on his behalf.

Of course, the reavers might have viewed that as a sign of weakness on his part. He had no desire to risk his relationship, or lack thereof, any further.

It was all so frustrating!

Loki loved their new routine; it gave him more time to work with the young elves here in the fortress. Lin continued to worry after her brother, who became more and more distant with the passing weeks. If you were not in 'Keeper' Locien's flock, you did not exist anymore in the young elf's eyes.

Lin had tried to speak with Loki many times, tried to convince him to lay off her brother.

The Dalish mage smirked; he told her that he would teach to all who would listen, if she was so concerned, perhaps she should join them, she might learn a thing or two.

The archer glared and stormed off, this was not over…not by a longshot.

She complained to Stroud, but there was little that he could do, he had already spoken of Loki's teaching to the Commander. Cesare did not view it as a threat to warden business; it would be allowed to continue.

All Lin could do was focus on her training, and wait for orders for their group, orders that would hopefully take them far from the fortress.

That was likely the only way to help her brother.

Most of their group's time was spent training with Nug and his people. Carver hated to admit it, but he had missed the surly former Carta member. Nug might not have been the friendly of sorts, and his gambling issues got him into trouble some times, but there was no better dwarf to have your back in a fight.

He was also friendly with Arika. Nug had recruited her after all. Carver hoped to use that link to reach his increasingly distant lover.

It was a chance anyway, and some chance was better than none.

Nug's scouting group were all good wardens tough, fierce, and mostly human. The one exception was a large gray skinned Qunari warrior. Carver had seen him around the fortress before, but had never spoken to him. Tal Vashoth, apparently, word was that he had been found as a baby by some merchants, the only survivor of an attack on a Qunari settlement up in northern Rivain. One of the traders and his wife had raised him as their own, he had served as their bodyguard, at least until his new family had died during a darkspawn raid. The wardens had found the large warrior, and offered him a place at their side.

He called himself Grey.

Carver had sparred with Grey several times during their training, the horned warrior was good, and unlike most of his kind smiled on occasion, a great difference than Qunari that the young warden had met in Kirkwall.

The thirty fourth year of the Dragon Age began with little fanfare, Carver and the others had been too busy to notice its arrival.

Sparring, training, and more sparring had become the wardens' lives. Most were itching for a chance to get out and engage the spawn again.

Carver felt like he was ready to start climbing the walls. He was tired of all this training, he wanted to go out.

He wanted to do something.

He had been sparring with Grey the day he had received the letter from Kirkwall.

He took it from the messenger with a nod. It had come from his Uncle Gamlen, which had surprised Carver.

_Since when did Gamlen write him, why had the letter not come from Mother?_

He opened it, and read.

He felt…he felt like he had been kicked in the chest.

He…He…

_Mother._

Carver excused himself, he…he needed to get out of here, out of the fortress, out away from people!

He needed to get away!

He was not on duty tonight, so none of the guards stopped him as he left. As long as he returned for his next guard shift, none would care.

Not that he cared about such things at that moment.

What did it matter anymore!

They were alone now. He and Garrett were alone.

First Father, then Bethany, and now…now…

Nothing mattered!

He just wanted to get away!

Away!

IOI

Lin had come looking for Carver; they had planned to meet for evening meal.

She found Grey sitting in the training room sharpening his great sword; the horned warrior mentioned that Carver had left suddenly. He had received a letter and fled shortly after that.

Carver had crumpled up the letter as he had left; the young warden had thrown it on the floor behind one of the weapons racks.

Lin retrieved it, she could not imagine, what would have set Carver off like that? What could…

She read the letter.

The archer fled the room.

Oh Carver, she thought, oh no!

Lin knew that she had to do something! Carver…he…he should not be alone right now, not after…

She knew that this was not something that she could do alone.

There was one other who would help her, one other who would care.

_She needed to find Arika…__**now. **_

IOI

"He is in here Milady.'

Arika nodded to the guard officer on duty. She followed after him, into the cells where prisoners were held for the night.

Carver was not the first warden to find himself in one of these cells. He looked up from his cot as the two entered. He was surprisingly undamaged considering what she had heard from the barkeep at the Warden's Rest.

Carver had picked a fight with five men, and with the exception of a split lip, and a little bruising on his cheek, he looked none the worse for wear.

"Heeeey, Arika," he slurred.

"Hello, Charity," she said with a frown.

'My old nickname," he purred, "Niiiiiiiiice."

The reaver rolled her eyes.

"Does he owe any fines?" she asked the guard.

"No Milady, the fight took place out in the street, and your friend killed no one, so it was perfectly legal. Even surrendered to my guard without resistance, he was rather polite about the whole thing."

"Then why is he locked up?" she asked.

"Protection for the idiots he was beating on, they were too drunk and too stupid to stay down." the guardsman said, "That and I can't have brawls happening in the streets."

Arika nodded, she herself had spent time her once, Stroud had been cross when he had to bail her out.

At least she would not have to pay for his release.

The Guard released Carver into her custody, with a promise he return to the keep and sleep it off.

She nodded, and led her intoxicated lover out of the office.

She glared at him.

"You were very lucky, Charity," she spat.

He gave her a drunken grin.

"I kneeeew you still cared," he whispered.

The reaver rolled her eyes.

_Dragons give me __**strength!**_

IOI

Arika sat with him the most of the night, Siobhan offered to take her guard shift so that she did not have to leave him.

Slowly shortly before sunrise, Carver began to stir.

He groaned, and squinted up at her.

She was glaring coldly at him.

"Hey," he murmured holding his head.

"That was stupid Charity," she said, "You are lucky you did not kill someone, or gotten killed yourself."

"It was just three guys," he grumbled.

"Five, actually," she informed him.

"Really," he said, he sounded almost proud.

She continued to glare at him.

"What were you thinking?"

"Wasn't," he confessed, "Didn't want to think… didn't want to feel… anything."

Some of her anger drained away.

She gave him a sad look.

"We found the letter," she informed him, "I…I know what happened to Lady Leandra."

Carver clenched his fists, she…she had no right to read that…

She…

She knew Mother too, he remember, Mother had welcomed her into the estate. Did she not deserve to know as well?

Carver hated this!

Gamlen's letter had not been subtle or gentle. It told him flatly that Leandra Hawke, Carver's Mother, was dead. She had been murdered by some rogue mage, a necromancer that had been living in Lowtown.

Garrett had hunted down and killed the bastard, but had arrived too late. He had already killed Mother and reanimated her corpse. Gamlen did not know the rest, but had heard some of it from Varric.

Thinking about it again, it…Carver felt tears stinging his eyes.

No…he would not cry in front of Arika, he did not want her to think him weak!

Arika sat down on the bed next to him; her eyes were warm, and full of concern.

"You do not have to pretend around me," she said, "I know you too well."

"You haven't been acting like it," he spat.

""I…I thought myself unworthy of you."

"I NEVER THOUGHT THAT!" he growled, wincing at the pain from his hangover. This…this was not the kind of conversation they should be having right now. He was in no shape for it.

Sadly, it would happen.

It had been denied for too long.

"I wanted you to stay close to me," he said, "I never doubted your value. You…you seem like you have given up, that you are just waiting for death. I...I couldn't lose you…not like that…I can't lose you…not after…this."

He tried to leave, but she did not let him, that and the pounding in his head.

She pulled him back down.

"Let me go," he growled.

"No,' she said.

"Arika."

"No."

She held him to her breast, not letting go. She felt his struggles lessen. She…could feel him starting to sob.

She felt no shame, and knew that he should feel none either.

She knew what it was like to lose a Mother.

"When my Mother died," she whispered, "There…there was nothing I could do. Her wounds were beyond our healer's ability. I…all…I could do was hold her, hold her and watch her go."

"At least you tried," he whimpered, "I wasn't there. Garrett wasn't…if I was there, maybe…maybe between the two of us, we could…could have…"

A gasping sob escaping his lips.

Arika did not let go, tears stung her own eyes now.

She had never cried when her Mother had fallen, she had been too angry at the time. She had been too angry, Elosia's death a raw and bleeding wound.

All she had wanted then was to kill the fool responsible.

No one had been there for her then. Arin and Father had been leading the dragon hunters away from the survivors. Alen had been seeing to their supplies, he could not stop even for his big sister.

She had been alone, just her and mother.

The wound still bled.

She would have spared her beloved this, she had desired that he never know pain of losing a parent to violence and war. It seemed that they had one more thing in common now.

Both had outlived the women that had given them life.

She held him close for the rest of the night. She...she was still not sure if she was worthy to be here, but knew that she should not leave, that she could not leave.

Carver needed her, and here she would stay.

The pain would burn for a long time; she knew that from experience, but unlike her…

He would not face it alone.


	7. The Mission

**Chapter 7: The Mission**

Another month would pass before the Commander finally decided to send his wardens out again.

Carver and Arika made the best of this time; slowly the young couple began to rebuild what they had lost in the last few months. Carver was still in mourning; his duties had not allowed him to attend his Mother's funeral. Arika stood by him, she was there if he needed anything, support, talk, or even a shoulder to cry on. She did not see this as weakness on her beloved's part; it was simply a time of grieving and healing. She was there for him, she needed to be there. They even started to be intimate with each other again, neither would admit it, but they both had missed each other's company.

It would take time, but they were finally on the road back.

Then came the day that Cesare called the senior wardens together, they all gathered quickly, hoping for good news.

He had a mission for them.

Word had reached Ansburg of a possible darkspawn incursion in a small village along the road between Starkhaven and Kirkwall. Ghouls had been sighted, and there were reports of the Blight sickness in the outlying farms. The new Commander knew that their time had now come.

Cesare had decided that the time had come to release his grey wardens on the world again.

In Ansburg, this final month of peace would eventually come to be known as the calm before the storm.

This mission would come to be known as the first step, the darkness before the dawn.

The dawn of the Avatar of Fen'Harel, the coming of something the world had never seen before!

IOI

Locien gathered his followers, **it was time!** The stars were coming into alignment. Through Kelly and Solen he sent word to the rest of the Children of Fen'Harel, the rest of his order. They were to assemble near Sundermount, and they were to bring the vessel. For months now, the Children had been preparing it. The body that the magic of the Avatar would be poured into, it was just clay now, clay anointed with sacred oils, but Fen'Harel would change that, his magic would make it flesh and blood, the summoning ritual would bring the vessel true animation, it would bring their master' magic into this world.

Then…Locien would do his part, he would use the items that he had gathered to pull a soul from the beyond. This soul would then be bonded with the Avatar, giving it true mortal life.

_The Avatar would then be __**whole,**__ ready to lead their people to their __**destiny!**_

He had thought long and hard on what soul he would summon. He decided to summon one of the elvhen priests of the Children of Fen'Harel, from the days of Arlathan. One of his ancient ancestors, such an elf would embrace the power of the Avatar whole heartedly, and would take the reins and lead their people back to glory, and where the Avatar went, Locien would not be far behind.

_So close now…soon they would be ready!_

The elven mage was pleased, his servants had done well. It was his followers that had alerted the Commander of this darkspawn threat, a threat that they had caused. It was necessary, life was needed for the ritual, sacrifices were needed!

The wardens would unwittingly deliver those for him, the next item needed for the summoning into his hands.

Only two items remained, in this village they would find the next. Then it was only a matter of retrieving the last item from the graveyard atop of Sundermount.

_They were close now…so close to achieving their goal. The quest of millennia was about to end._

_The Avatar would finally rise!_

Locien smiled.

The wardens had been useful pawns. They had given Locien everything he had needed to save his people. Perhaps when this was done, he would advise the Avatar to be merciful towards them. They would still be needed should an Archdemon rise again after all.

He would give it some thought.

Such things should not be rushed into after all.

IOI

Four full scouting groups marched out of Ansburg. The Commander and his personal guard rode at their head. Cesare intended to leave nothing to chance.

He intended to show his men the strength and will of his Grey Wardens.

Stroud and the other senior wardens did not understand his coming along. This force that the Commander had with him was almost a full battle group, not necessary for a simple investigation. If the spawn had infected people in this village, it would be necessary to deal with those who could not be saved, and evacuate any survivors.

Such a show of force seemed unnecessary.

Arin stuck close to Carver and Arika, he found himself growing curious about his sister's mate. Carver was strong, he recognized that, and he seemed to be pulling his sister out of whatever darkness had ensnared her soul.

Arin was grateful for that.

He still hoped to find his end somewhere along this mission. A warrior's death, saving the lives of others, they may have been lowlanders, but he had to work with what he had on hand.

IOI

Lin glanced back at Loki; the Dalish mage seemed very pleased with himself.

She was not sure that she liked that.

She tried to stay positive, it was good that Loki would not be pouring anymore hate into Solen's ear. Hopefully with his new master gone, the boy would start to snap out of whatever spell the mage had cast. Hopefully we would find his way back to the shy and good boy she remembered.

She could only hope, and pray to the Maker that this would be so.

The Commander had spoken with her this morning, with all the archers actually. He wanted fire arrows prepared, though he would not say why.

The request made Lin uneasy; Stroud was the type of leader who outlined the plan in great detail before the mission began.

She was uncomfortable with all this secrecy.

She stayed quiet though, for now, her family had to live in Ansburg after all.

It would be unwise to openly question the Commander…

…Very unwise indeed.

IOI

Alistair felt nervous, he did not like where this was going, the Commander was acting like he had something to prove, and, whatever it was, was likely not good for the order.

Most of the others took this mission in stride, they were simply grateful to finally be out of the keep again. After months of inactivity, they were ready to be wardens once again.

They were eager to do their duty.

IOI

The group made its way towards the village of Blainswood, as far as settlements went it was fairly small, only about a hundred inhabitants, traders and metal workers mostly. Though, it had been rumored that the town elders allowed raiders to operate in the area, in exchange for a cut of their profits.

Perhaps, this is what had brought the Blight down upon them; perhaps they had raided the wrong people.

There were several outlying farms along the road to Blainswood, the wardens stopped at each one. Two of them had contained ghouls, already so infected with the taint that they were wild animals in the service of the darkspawn.

The wardens ended these quickly, and burned down the farms to prevent the spread of further infection.

Carver shifted uncomfortably, he hated ghouls. One of her first missions in the order had been to aid a family that had been exposed to the taint, by the time the wardens arrived, they had been too late. The entire family had become ghouls.

The wardens had been forced to kill them all.

The only survivor, a boy about Carver's age had not understood. He called the wardens murderers, he was enraged that they had not been able to help his family.

He had come at Carver was with a sword, the young warden had no choice. He had to slay they boy.

That death still haunted him, he had sworn to do better, but some guilt remained.

He had no desire to add to it, if this village had become infected…

This would get really bad real quick.

The Commander called the m to a halt just within striking range of the village.

He had decided to send in an advance group, they needed to know the extent of the infection before they proceeded.

Lin and several other scouts broke away; they were to return in one hour.

Cesare took the time to speak with the men. Most were eager to do their duty. He needed to know who he could count on, and who were going to turn squeamish in the face of doing their duty.

He needed to know who was with him, and who might be against him.

The scouting groups mostly kept to themselves. Stroud's and Nug's mixed fairly easily, all the training they had undergone made it easier for these warriors to mix. Siobhan had been assigned to serve as healer, while Loki was tasked with damaging.

The Dalish smiled, for what he needed, that task suited him just fine.

The hour passed, and Lin and the rest of the scouts returned.

The archer seemed pleased. She marched right up to the Commander and saluted.

"Report," he said.

"The Maker is with us, ser," she said smiling, "The villagers have managed to isolate the sick. I think they caught it before it could spread to the village as a whole."

The Commander nodded.

"Did you sense the degree of the infection?"

"Most are still in the early stages," Lin continued, "Their loved ones are being kept back as a precaution. I think we got lucky, ser. We should be able to evacuate the survivors safely, before we…before we do what we must."

Cesare nodded grimly, it was clear that the elf did not like what they were about to do, but she would obey.

That was good.

He turned to the other scouts.

"Do you concur with the girl's report?

The other wardens nodded in affirmative.

Cesare smiled, he knew what he had to do.

He turned to the others.

"Prepare yourselves; he called out, "We move in one hour, we purge the entire village."

Lin's eyes widened.

_**WHAT!**_

"Ser," she stammered, "I said we were…"

"I heard you," he said giving her a fatherly smile, "I have decided to err on the side of caution. You said this infection is in the early stages, yes? We cannot afford a single ghoul to slip through. No, we shall purge the village to be safe."

Stroud stepped forward, he was not one to shirk his duty, but even he…he looked a little pale at what the commander was asking them to do.

"But we do not know what caused this," Lin said frantically, "should we not investigate first?"

"Investigation is unnecessary," the Commander said, "Death will stop the spread of this evil at the source."

Stroud shook his head, this did not sound like duty, this sounded like madness,

"Commander is…is this wise? The other cities might…"

"The other cities will not hear of this," Cesare said, "We shall leave no survivors, if anyone asks, we responded to a darkspawn raid, and arrived too late, nothing more could be done."

"So, we are to be liars then?" Nug said, it was clear that the dwarf did not agree with this choice either.

Cesare sighed.

"An example needs to be made master dwarf," he said patiently, "These people have invited the blight into their homes. We must show all of the Free Marches that will not be tolerated. There will be no evidence linking us to this attack, but the rumor, the possibility will keep the other settlements in line."

The former crow prince smiled.

"Fear…will do the rest."

"THIS IS WRONG!"

Alistair sprang from where he had been listening. Maker, the man…he could not be serious.

"Commander, please, for the love of the Maker, please, do not make us do this!"

Cesare's eyes turned cold, his glare silenced Alistair.

"I respect what you have done for Thedas, my friend," he said coldly, "But this is not Ferelden, and I am not your elven wife. I lead the order, and my decision stands! If you wish to be relieved from duty, I will grant that, and have you returned to Ansburg in irons."

He leaned in closer to the younger man.

"Do I make myself clear, Warden Alistair," he said grimly.

Alistair held his gaze, the young warden did not back down, but at the same time, he did not give the Commander an excuse to arrest him.

He stepped back into line.

"Marvelous," Cesare declared, "Everyone ready themselves, we strike after sunset." The Commander left with his personal guard in tow.

The other wardens stared after him in horror, most of them did anyway, some had come from very dark lives before the order.

These welcomed the coming violence.

Stroud looked at his companions, they all looked ill; it was one thing to do their duty.

But this…this was going to be a massacre…a blood bath!

None of them wanted to be a part of this; Stroud could see that, even the reavers looked ill.

This was going to be bad.

IOI

Loki kept his face Impassive, but inside, he was leaping for joy.

The stupid shem had done exactly as he had suspected he would!

He drew a small item from his robes; it was simply medallion bearing a symbol of a crystal goblet.

It was Tevinter in origin, seized by the dalish after they were freed, later stolen by the Children of Fen'Harel, for use in their ritual.

It was called the _Hunger demon's chalice, _its purpose was to absorb the lives of the slain,_ their very souls._

Loki grinned hungrily.

The avatar needed life for the ritual, this little item would gather it in the next hour.

This village would die, so that the Avatar could be born.

Everything was proceeding as it was supposed to.

Fen'Harel was being kind.


	8. The Purge

**Chapter 8: The Purge**

The sun set over the village of Blainswood for the last time.

Commander Cesare formed his wardens up for the attack. He recognized that this would not be pretty. Many of his men questioned the reasoning behind this, but he knew that it was necessary.

_The world needed to see what happened to those who fooled with the taint. The wardens could afford to show no mercy, not if they wished to claim the Free Marches as their own._

This purge would also be an excellent test of his fellows' loyalty; could he count on them to do what needed to be done?

Those that could not would need to be either reassigned, or removed completely.

Removal would be preferable he realized; he could not afford dissention in the ranks.

_The crows had taught him that._

IOI

Stroud did his best to prepare his people, not that any of them were happy about their orders.

Nigel was furious, looked like he was ready to mutiny, if Siobhan was not there, he very well might have.

The twins tended to their blades, they spoke little, not even the usual jibes for each other left their mouths. They had nothing to joke about; this was nothing to joke about.

Lin…the poor elf looked like she wanted to cry, even during her bandit days, she had only killed if she had to, the thought of eliminating a whole village…

It was almost more than she could bear.

Nug and his people seemed to be in the same boat that Stroud's were that Qunari, Grey, spoke quietly to the dwarf. It looked like Nug was trying to convince him that they had to do this.

Stroud wondered if his old friend was trying to convince himself as well.

Alistair was glaring daggers at the Commander. Stroud gave the young hero a hard look. He understood Alistair's feelings, but now was not the time to discuss this.

If the Commander decided to have him arrested, then there would be no chance to do something later on.

Loki seemed actually pleased by this mission; the senior warden shook his head. For a healer, Loki could be extremely bloodthirsty…at least when it came to humans and darkspawn anyway.

There was one who would not hesitate.

He went over to Arin, Arika, and Carver the three had said nothing during all this, just sat quietly, readying their weapons.

Arika looked up at Stroud, her blue eyes stormy.

"My family died because of a raid like this," she said coldly, "Are the wardens prepared to bring such a curse down upon their heads?"

"We have our orders," Stroud replied flatly.

"You do not agree either," Carver said, "Can't the senior wardens talk with the Commander; convince him not to do this?"

"He will not hear us," Stroud replied.

"Slaughtering innocents for another man's vanity and pride," Arin was glaring at the commander now as well, "This will not lead to a good death, but…if we must strike, perhaps it is better to leave none alive, less chance of someone coming after us for vengeance later."

The senior warden's frown deepened, the boy spoke the truth, he did not like it, but there it was.

Stroud wondered what the old Commander would have said about this. Part of him wished for the old man's presence now. Never in all his time in the wardens had he been called upon to do something this extreme.

A warden did what he must; the senior warden understood that, but this…this…

There had to be limits.

Word was passed back through the scouting groups, no horns were sounded, they did not want to alert the people in the village.

It was time.

The archers marched out to flank the village, they would take the first shot, once that was done, the warriors and rogues would move in. It fell to the mages to keep the villagers in the target zone, make sure that none escaped.

Siobhan whimpered, she offered up a quick prayer to the Maker, for both the people of the village, and her own.

_Maker forgive us for what we are about to do._

The Commander gave the final order; the archers lit their fire arrows. One of his personal guards had taken command, to ensure no one shirked their duty.

The command to loose arrows was given.

Fire rained down on the village of Blainswood. The first of the houses were set ablaze.

Bells sounded in the small settlement, people were roused from their beds to fight the fire.

Cesare gave the final signal, the wardens' battle horn sounded.

The warriors charged as one.

The town guards were unprepared for such an assault.

The wardens entered Blainswood.

The slaughter began.

IOI

The ghouls were easy. Carver tried to stay focused on them. Their loved ones had likely freed them, hoping they would help stop the attackers.

The taint did not allow that, ghouls swarmed the people, biting and clawing, lost in the throes of their sickness.

The young warden ended them quickly, any who had been bitten her clawed he did as well.

He grimaced, fighting back angry tears.

It was better to focus on his duty…far better…

…than the alternative.

The village guards were also easier. They had weapons and tried to fight back. They were no match for seasoned wardens however, many died quickly.

Carver searched for Arika and Arin, the two reavers never left his side. They chose to keep their killing to the ghouls and few remaining guards as well.

A few more armed people entered the fray, bandits Carver supposed, they tried to fight their way through the wardens, hoping to flee.

Carver and the others did not allow that.

The Commander's orders were quite clear.

_No Survivors…no mercy._

IOI

Loki was enjoying the raid.

He could feel the Tevinter amulet in his pocket drinking up the life that ended around them. There was so much death, so much power to be gained here.

He could feel the veil shudder from the violence.

The elf went house to house, dealing death to those who were trying to hide. He felt no shame in this, when the humans had destroyed the Dales they had done much the same thing to the elven settlements there.

It was time the shems knew what that felt like.

If anything, these people should have taken comfort that they were dying for a greater cause. Their lives would have meaning; their souls would feed the coming of the Avatar.

They were to be the instrument of the elves salvation.

He wished that he could explain that to them, some might even have agreed with this purge.

He went to the next house, his magic blasted down the door.

The purge continued.

IOI

All of Blainswood was in flames.

Lin wiped at her face, her copper eyes burned, her vision blurred by tears. She told anyone that asked that it was from the smoke.

They accepted it…she guessed.

_They were going to fall into the void for this…their souls damned forever!_

A ghoul crawled out of a burning structure, it had been a young girl once, it howled in fury and attempted to charge the archers.

She ended it with a single shot to the eye.

At least one person given a just peace.

She drew another arrow, watching for more survivors.

Another tear rolled down her cheeks.

She fired again.

IOI

Commander Cesare waded into the fighting, his personal guard covering him.

He knew that he might need them, in case one of his fellows got ambitious.

_It is what a crow would have done._

His sword and dagger flashed, ending the life of a fool who had tried to beg for mercy.

Cesare almost laughed.

These people did not understand.

"Do not let up!" he shouted, "Let all of Thedas see the strength of our convictions, of the order that we serve. The wardens are the power in the Free Marches now. Let those that oppose us despair!"

He engaged another bandit, cutting the man down like he was nothing.

IOI

Stroud saw the Commander, heard his ranting.

The senior warden shook his head.

When this was done, things would need to be discussed.

Unpleasant things.

Strength was all well and good, and convictions were needed to do what had to be done.

But this…had this truly been necessary?

That was another thing that needed to be discussed.

How far was the Commander willing to go, and would the wardens let him go this far again?

What were **they**…prepared to do?

IOI

The purge took less than an hour, all that remained of Blainswood was a few burnt out buildings. A few tainted corpses were left as proof that this had been a darkspawn raid, per the commander's orders.

The rest of the bodies were to be piled and burned.

Cesare returned to Ansburg, he left the clean-up in the hands of Nug, Stroud and the rest of their people.

They would handle any questions should anyone arrive from the outlying settlements. Answer any questions that needed to be answered.

Stroud was smart enough to know the right ones.

For the sake of his men, he would use them.

IOI

Stroud shook his head as he moved through the carnage. He caught sight of his fellows as they tended to the dead. No one seemed pleased that this mission was done.

The twins looked sick. Nigel glared at him, while Siobhan cried in his arms; they had both expected him to stand up, to say something.

Stroud knew that it would have done no good.

The Commander had made his decision, now the wardens had to make theirs.

He had spoken briefly with Nug; they agreed to continue the conversation on the way back to Ansburg.

They had much to discuss.

Lin walked around in a daze. Alistair came up to her, putting his arms around the archer. He thought he saw her cry. Both looked so heartsick.

Stroud was envious of them, that innocence; he had lost his long ago.

Of Loki, he saw nothing; he suspected that the elf was searching the bodies for valuables.

Stroud's lip curled in disgust.

Stealing from humans did not seem wrong to the elf.

He approached what had once been the town's chantry, Arika and Arin stood guard outside.

They were acting…strangely.

"It is better you not enter, ser," Arika told him, "Bad in there."

Stroud's brow furrowed, they had already cleared the bodies from the chantry?

"Let me pass," he ordered.

The two reavers glanced at each other, decided on something.

They stepped out of the way.

Stroud went inside.

Carver was standing near the back wall; he was looking downward, standing before the feet of a statue of Andraste.

Stroud went up to the young warden, he could think of no comforting words, but he hoped that some would come to him.

Carver knew he was there, but he did not turn.

"I could not do it," the young warden said.

Stroud looked confused.

Could not do what?

He looked down.

His eyes narrowed.

Beneath the statue was a small cabinet, likely used to store food and supplies for the chantry.

Tonight, they had held something more precious.

Three villagers had hid inside there.

Stroud looked at the poor people, a young girl, barely sixteen years if that, along with two young children, one eight or nine, the other possibly five.

The three whimpered in fear.

Stroud glared at Carver.

"There were to be no survivors," the senior warden said.

"I know, ser," Carver said, "but…"

"No buts," the senior warden said, he turned to the girl and children.

"This village is no longer safe," he informed them, "this town was tainted and needed to be purged, there were no survivors. You cannot stay here good travelers. My men and I will see you safely to one of the surrounding villages. It is the least we can do for…_travelers."_

The girl nodded, still not understanding, but slowly tears of gratitude began to fall.

They were alive, they would be _spared._

The senior warden turned and left. He did not let the smile on his face show.

_Good lad Carver_, he thought_, good lad indeed._

IOI

Carver watched him go, his face shocked.

He had thought.

He had feared.

He helped the girl out of her hiding place; she in turn helped the children.

"Thank you," the girl sobbed, she threw her arms around him, "Maker bless you!"

"Please don't," Carver said, "We are not worthy of that."

_They would never be worthy of that again._

Though perhaps, saving someone, saving anyone…

Perhaps, that was a step in the right direction.

A step back towards the light.


	9. Reasons Why

**Chapter 9: Reasons Why**

The wardens made camp a short distance away from the ruins of Blainswood. It was still late, sometime after midnight, the last of the flames had finally burned down.

So far, no one had come to investigate the fires from the village, it was likely that the attack would be credited to raiders or slavers.

That would likely serve the Grey Wardens best.

Stroud and Nug had agreed to offer the three survivors their protection. Even to offer them escort as far as Kirkwall if they desired. The girl, Cora was her name, seemed grateful for the wardens' help, the two children, Daylen and Erisa apparently had family there.

Stroud had been pleased; Carver had made the right choice this eve.

He felt sorry for the destruction of their home, not to mention the deaths of their families, but it had not been his call. Had he refused, had any of them refused, Cesare would have had them arrested, possibly executed, and the purge would have happened anyway.

_Only by saying nothing had these three lives had been saved, it was better than nothing, he supposed._

_Three survivors were better than none._

Loki did not agree with what they had done, he felt that they should carry out the Commander's orders.

Stroud disagreed, if the elf did not like it, then he could go to the void.

Loki fell silent; he bowed and continued with his work.

The dalish had more important things to worry about now.

One advantage the wardens had from sparing Cora was that they had been able to learn how the blight sickness had first came to the village. The girl did not know the whole story, but she told them what she could.

A week ago, a group of elven traders passed through Blainswood. They had been selling trinkets, some gold and valuable. The rumor was that the mayor had told the bandits who lived near the village where to find the traders. The elves had apparently been…convinced to hand over what they were selling. Any of the people who touched the items got sick.

Stroud considered what the girl had told him. He had never heard of any elven traders working in this area; surely such people would have stopped in Ansburg.

If they had, the wardens would have sensed any tainted objects. It was unfortunate, but it did happen sometimes. It was not uncommon to have a trader take items out of the deep roads. It was rare, but not uncommon. He suspected that is what happened here.

He dispatched Lin and the twins back to Blainswood, he wanted to see some of these tainted items for himself. If a group of elves were pedaling such things in the Free Marches, it was necessary to stop them.

Less another purge become necessary.

He had no desire to have any more innocent blood on his hands.

They could have saved at least some of the people; there had been no reason to kill them all. The three they found in the chantry had been untainted.

_How many others died that did not have to? All they had needed to do was end the lives of the sick. It would have been painful for their loved ones but…_

The senior warden sighed, some days; doing his duty gave him no comfort.

"How's it going Boss?"

Stroud turned, it had been awhile since he had heard those words.

"Better than I was Nug," he informed the dwarf. He noticed that his old comrade had one of his daggers out, wiping it clean.

"What happened," he asked.

Nug snorted.

"One of my boys was feeling ambitious," he said with a shrug, "Thought he would grab a horse, ride back to Ansburg, and tell the Commander we had left survivors alive."

Stroud frowned.

"I took care of it," Nug said blandly.

Stroud was grateful, but that did mean he was happy to hear that.

"I'm sorry you had to kill one of your own."

"He killed himself the moment he decided to betray his group, you got your pals' backs no matter what the cost. The Commander does not stand shoulder to shoulder with you in the deeps, your scouting group does."

Nug shook his head.

"I'm glad we were able to save at least someone…anyone from that place."

Stroud agreed, Carver had done a good thing, it had to remain secret, but it was good. Wardens were supposed to protect people. They died so others did not.

The death of a single overly ambitious warden was worth those three young lives.

IOI

Arin stood apart from the others, standing watch over the camp. The reaver's eyes kept wandering back to the now ruined village.

He shook his head sadly.

He remembered the raid on the Pentaghast's clan, remembered aiding those lying lowland mages. The dragon hunters had refused their offers, and now had to be punished.

His clan had paid a heavy price for that raid. His own family had paid heavily for that raid. So many dead and the blood mages had not even paid them for their work.

Arika had been the only one thinking clearly after that, the high elder had betrayed them all!

The village survivors should have demanded the bastard's head. Arika should never have needed to be banished.

"Brother?"

He smiled wanly.

"You should be asleep little cub," he said softly.

"I'm joining Carver, shortly," she informed him, "I wished to speak with you, privately."

"Eh."

She gathered her thoughts. She prayed to the dragons that her brother would listen to her, truly listen.

"You don't have to die," she told him.

"I wish to regain my honor," he informed her, "No one will have me in the mountains now. All that is left for me… is death."

"It does not have to be that way," she reminded him, "You can stay here; find a lowland mate, as I have."

He smiled sadly.

"I am not you little cub," he said, "You were always strong, I…I do not like this place. I miss the clan, the snow and the mountains. I wish to see them again, even if it as at the side of the dragons, my soul flying free beside them."

Arika gave him a sad look.

"We have lost much, I have lost much," She said touching his arm lightly, "I…I do not wish to lose you too."

He smiled wanly.

"I am pleased that you have found a life here, sister, but I do not think that I ever could," he chuckled, "Besides, I doubt any lowland woman would be able to be with me. She would likely see me as a savage…an untamable animal."

Arika laughed lightly.

"You would be surprised brother; there are women here in the lowlands who would welcome such a challenge, trying to tame a man of the mountains."

He laughed as well, it was an interesting thought.

"The people here…they seem…a little soft."

"Do not underestimate them, brother. I have come to discover the value of sensitivity. My Carver is strong, but he has a softness when we are together. I…I find it irresistible. I ask only that you consider my words, do not leap blindly into death, there may yet be a life here for you."

He considered what she had said. He had sought his death for months now. The thought of seeking a life seemed alien.

"I shall consider your words little cub," he promised, "I promise nothing, but I will consider them."

She nodded, pleased to have made that much progress.

"I am off to bed," she said, "I will see you at dawn brother, good night."

"Good night, my sister."

He watched her head for her tent, the tent where her man awaited her.

Arin shifted slightly, his thoughts troubled.

A life here in the lowlands?

It was…a strange idea.

IOI

Carver did not find his rest easily this night.

What they had done earlier still haunted him, but…what he had done…what he had chosen to do.

His conscience did not trouble him as much as it should have.

_He had saved those people; he would have saved more if he could have._

He found his thoughts drifting to his brother.

_What would you have done Garrett, _he thought, _would you have risked your life to save them all, or would you have made the choice that I did, and saved some?_

He found that he could not answer that question, not to his satisfaction anyway.

He felt a warm pulsing in his blood, not the cold chill he felt when he sensed darkspawn or ghouls, this was comforting, familiar.

The sense of a fellow warden, one he knew well…

Arika.

The reaver slipped into their tent, he said nothing, choosing just to watch her. A tired sigh escaped her lips, as she slowly slipped off her armor.

He felt content, content to just watch her, just to be close to her. He loved watching her undress, she had a beautiful body, and knowing that it was his to explore…

It was gratifying.

Soon, she was wearing nothing but her shift; it was cut low in back, giving him a clear view of the dragon tattoo that graced her bare back.

His hand rose, he slightly ran a finger down her spine.

Arika shuddered with pleasure.

"I…I thought you asleep?" she purred.

"I don't like sleeping alone, you know that."

She turned to him, a warm smile on her lips.

"We should not start something here that we cannot finish," she reminded him, "The others are right outside."

Part of him did not care, he wanted her, he had always wanted her.

Part of him just wanted her to submit to that wanting.

She slipped into his arms, her skin warm to his touch, the smell of her soothing and exciting at the same time.

He kissed her lightly on the lips, she returned it…soft…warm…inviting.

"I am proud of you, Beloved," she told him.

"I would have done more," he said sadly, "I…I should have done more."

"Not without your own death," she reminded him, she kissed him lightly down the front of his chest.

He groaned, enjoying the sensation.

"You are still here, that is where you need to be," she said softly, though she was starting to breathe hard, her eyes were darkening with passion, "Here with me, together…we shall do more."

He could not take it anymore.

**He wanted her!**

He pulled her to him, his lips attacking hers hungrily.

She groaned, his fingers skillfully pulling down her shift, hers working him out of his trousers.

It seemed that they still had something to finish tonight after all.

IOI

Stroud stood watch over their charges, the two children slept, fitfully, Cora refused to, the girl felt responsible for them. She would likely be exhausted tomorrow, but she did not care.

Stroud understood how she felt.

"Ser?"

Lin's voice startled him out of his musing; he turned to face the elf.

Her copper eyes were hard and angry, she motioned him to follow.

_What she had learned in Blainswood, he would not like it._

They stepped just out of earshot of the others. She pulled out several of the tainted trinkets the bandits had stolen from those elven traders, the ones that had brought the taint to the village. They were clearly old, and radiated with a malevolence that made even him shudder.

"So, this is the cause of all the trouble," he said grimly.

She nodded.

"It gets worse, ser," she said coldly, "I know these objects, I have seen them before, or others like them."

Stroud gave her a strange look.

"Where?" he asked.

Her ears twitched, she…she did not even want to admit what she had to say.

"These are from the warden prison in the Vimmark Mountains," she informed him, "These came from…from his prison."

Stroud shivered, he knew of whom she spoke.

"Are you certain?"

The archer shivered.

"He is dead, but…I…I still feel the echo of his touch on my soul, his fingers on my spine," Lin shuddered, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Corypheus had left his mark on her, and on Arika and Carver as well, they would never truly be rid of it.

"His taint touched these items Stroud, I am sure of if."

He nodded; he had come to trust Lin's instincts over the past year.

He would trust her now.

"He sealed the trinkets in a bag, they would be disposed of when they returned to Ansburg, but first…he had questions for the girl Cora.

He walked up to her. She startled slightly at his approach. He gave her his most apologetic look.

"I did not mean to startle you, serah," he said with a bow, "but I have one final question. Did you hear where these elven traders that brought these things came from? Did you hear anything at all?"

The girl's brow furrowed with concentration, trying to remember everything that she had heard.

She had been in the chantry; she had heard the mayor speaking with one of the sisters.

He had not known that there were any exclusively elven traders in…

Her eyes widened, she remembered.

"Ansburg, messere," she answered, "The elves said that they were from Ansburg."

Stroud's eyes turned cold.

Ansburg?

It made sense, the wardens had taken several of the items from Corypheus's prison for study, but those had all been locked away, kept safe, just so things like Blainswood would not happen.

_No trader could have bought those objects; the wardens would not have sold any of them, even if they could. Plus, there had been no traders in the fortress lately, especially none that were all elven…._

Stroud's mind worked feverishly.

_**How in the name of Andraste's pyre had they even gotten those artifacts?!**__ Only a warden could have entered the vault where they were being examined, and the examiners had been mostly mages, they were studying the magical effect that being close to Corypheus had had on those thing, what the creature's mere presence had done to the…_

A thought occurred to Stroud, it came like pieces falling into a puzzle.

He felt his fury bubble up; a single name filled his mind.

_No traders in the fortress._

_Only a warden would have had access to those objects._

_Only the mages had been trusted to study them._

There were precious few mages in the Ansburg garrison.

_Who among them would trust those objects to elves…to __**only**__ elves?_

He turned to Lin, had she made the same assumption?

Her eyes were angry.

He suspected that she had.

"Wake Loki," he ordered her, "bring him here, NOW!"

She hurried to the mage's tent.

He cursed under his breath.

What have you done, Loki? He had seen how Loki had been working the other elves in Ansburg. Would they have risked their lives for him? Would they have risked getting infected with the taint?

It…it was possible.

**What have you done, Loki?**

Why have you done this?

Lin ran back, her eyes narrowed.

"He is gone, Stroud."

"**What?"** the senior warden spat.

"His tent is empty; I found tracks leading off into the wood, but…"

Stroud cursed.

"Wake the others," he ordered, "We have to catch him before he gets too far away."

She nodded, heading up to rouse the other wardens.

Stroud stared grimly into the dark.

**Loki.**

Loki had been behind the tainting of Blainswood. He could not prove it, but his theory made sense.

The only question now was…why?

What had that Dalish bastard had to gain by doing this?

_What was so important, that he had to set up an entire human village to be killed?_

Stroud did not know.

_But, he intended to find out._

**A/N: We come now to the main part of the story. Loki's plan finally takes shape, and we move soon into Kirkwall for a few cameos. Next chapter up soon, I can't help it, this story is coming fast! See you all soon!**

**DG**


	10. Love and Power

**Chapter 10: Love and Power**

"Are you really an EFF!"

Alistair did his best to stifle a laugh, he assumed the little girl had meant to say 'elf.'

"Erisa!" Cora said blushing slightly, she gave Lin a chagrined look.

"I'm sorry, mistress," the girl said.

"It is okay," Lin said smiling, she turned to the five year old.

"I suppose my ears gave me away," she said pushing back her hair, revealing one delicate pointed ear.

"Like your ears," the little one sang out.

"Why thank you, that is very sweet," the archer responded.

Alistair smiled.

"You are good with them," he commented.

"I have four brothers and sisters," she confessed, "Solen is the eldest, he…"

She paused uncomfortably.

Solen.

Had her brother knew about Loki's plans? Would he have helped him if he had?

She did not want to think about that.

She was worried about her little brother.

Ignore it, she thought, focus on keeping these human children safe; between the two of you, you can do that.

Yes, they could.

They would have to deal with Solen later.

IOI

Alistair glanced over at Lin, she looked distracted. He knew he should say something, bring her back to the now, they had a job to do after all. The two of them had been assigned to watch the three young refugees, to babysit as the twins had called it; the others had spread out around them, trying to pick up Loki's trail. Unfortunately for them, the Dalish had been both smart and lucky. Lin had tracked him until he had reached a small river, and then the trail had gone cold. From the direction he had been heading though, there was only one settlement near there.

Loki…was heading towards Kirkwall. Perhaps he was hoping to lose them in the crowds of the city, both to make good his escape, and get away with the murder of an entire village.

Alistair's eyes narrowed in anger at the thought.

_Loki._

Alistair was not the type of person to hate someone; Lyna had said that was because he had a good heart. He had hated Loghain Mac Tir of course, but that was because he had murdered their brothers at Ostagar.

The former Templar could not help but feel a bit of that old hatred for Loki now. If he was responsible for tainting Blainswood as Stroud believed…

_Then he was the reason that they had the blood of all those people on their hands now._

Alistair would happily reward him for that with a sword through the middle.

Such cold thoughts left a bad taste in his mouth; he decided to seek out a little comfort.

The former Templar's hand went to his neck, feeling the silver chain. He lifted out the small Dalish amulet that hung there.

He smiled at soft feel of the polished iron bark. His fingers ran over the runes that decorated the small stone.

He could not read the elvish writing there, but he knew what it said, Lyna had told him.

"My heart and soul," his Dalish bride had said, "never forget those words ma vhanen, I am yours…forever."

His heart ached.

_Maker…he missed her._

Lin noticed the sad look on his face, she frowned.

"Thinking of home?" she asked.

He gave her a mournful look.

"Lyna is my home," he admitted, "I wish she were here right now. We could use her fire right now, and her bow."

Lin nodded; she could not imagine being married to someone, much less being married and not to be at their side, to not even be allowed to remain in the same country.

Alistair was stronger than her she guessed. Either that or his love for his wife was stronger than anything that she had seen.

She…she found herself growing curious.

"What is she like," the archer asked him, "the hero?"

He grinned.

"Lyna is hard to describe."

"Come on," Lin said curiously, "If you could put everything you know about her in a box, what would be in it?"

He gave her a mischievous look.

"I would not dare put Lyna in a box; she would kill me when she got out!"

Lin gave him the look; it was one he was familiar with.

He smiled weakly.

"Not funny?" he asked.

"Not really."

He sighed; it looked like he would not be able to escape this particular trap.

_Oh, very well, how could he describe his wife to someone who did not know her?_

He could see Lyna clearly through his mind's eye. Beautiful, sure-footed, he saw her move silently through the forest. He saw her spinning and fighting, shrieking like a fade demon as she engaged the darkspawn. Then things turned more intimate, their first night together, her pale skin speckled with freckles, the taste of her lips, the feel of her warm body above him. Her slender, yet muscular, legs wrapped around his waist.

"My Al-lee-stair," she had sighed, "Ma Vhenan!"

The thought brought a blush to his cheeks.

"Alistair?" Lin repeated.

_Lyna…right,_ he thought.

"Lyna…she is uh…she is….very Dalish," he said, "Proud, true, she is fierce to her enemies and protective of those she cares for. She can be a bit of a smart-ass at times, and has little patience for formalities. She loves her people and their history; even though she has chosen to live in our world," a thought occurred to him, he gave Lin a serious look, "Do not judge her people by Loki. I have known both good and bad Dalish. They are little different than us truth be told. Some are actually quite sociable. Take my Mother-in-law, Ashalle, she was a bit weirded out by me at first, but she gave me a chance. She saw that Lyna loved me, so, she tried to give me benefit of the doubt."

Lin smiled. The old elf must not have known what to think, her daughter bringing a human man home.

"Was it love at first sight for the two of you?" she asked.

Alistair chuckled.

"Lyna hated me, or at least did not trust me. 'Never trust a shem,' that was one of the first things she said, no wait, that was the second, the first was…'you are a very strange shem,'" he snorted at the memory. He remembered standing in front of her at Ostagar, this proud little Dalish girl rolling her eyes at him.

Their first meeting had been burned into his mind, the way she looked, the way she smelled, her short black hair, the bright sky blue eyes, the artful twirl of her tattooed forehead, all the things that would come to define Lyna. Define the woman he loved.

He had not loved her then, not yet, but she had intrigued him.

_Love…came later._

"When we came to Denerim, when I was expected to take my father's throne, I…I could not do it. I could not leave her, she had lost so much, **we **had lost so much. My brother's widow is a great queen. Lyna needed me more than Ferelden did, it was not even a choice for me. I knew where my heart lay."

Lin's eyes widened.

"So…it is true," she said, "You really are a prince?"

" A bastard prince thank you," he chuckled.

"You gave up your kingdom to be with the woman you loved, that is so romantic," Lin was grinning now, "The bards must love you two."

"They loved the story," he shrugged, "Leliana that was the bard that travelled with us, she came up with so many stories about Lyna and me. Love conquering all and all that stuff, the truth is far more simple, we loved and did not want to be parted. That was it."

Lin nodded, she found herself thinking about distant Kirkwall…

And a certain elf that lived there…

She blushed at the thought.

_Fenris._

"Now that I have embarrassed myself," he said smiling, "May I ask good woman if you have anyone waiting for you, in Kirkwall perhaps?"

"You have been talking to Carver haven't you?"

"Only a little," he confessed, "He said you met someone before all that bad business in the Vimmarks."

She sighed, Fenris's face coming clearly to her mind.

"I did meet someone."

He chuckled, he knew that look, he had seen it in the mirror enough times during the blight.

_A lovesick fool._

"Are you two serious?" he asked.

"I….I don't know," she admitted, "We only kissed once, well twice, but I was being mind-controlled at the time, so it doesn't really count."

The archer shook her head.

He was smiling wryly at her.

"He is Tevinter," she continued, "He was a former slave there, a bodyguard to one of the Magisters. The mage branded lyrium into his skin."

"Ouch," Alistair said wincing.

"He is a friend of Carver's brother, he…I…we, oh maker Why can't I talk about this! I feel like such a fool!"

"You care about him that is clear."

"I do care," she said with a frown, "it is sad, I never regretted joining the order, not once, until…until I met Fenris. I can't help but wonder what my life would have been like had we met before I joined."

Alistair nodded, that was the sad thing when a warden began a relationship with someone outside the order. There were things that a warden could not do, things they could not have.

Most just tried to focus on the good, loving what they had, while they had it.

It was likely the only sane thing to do.

"Is it wrong that I feel this way?" she asked him, "that 'what if,' is starting to haunt me?"

"That is what it does I think," he shrugged, "My only advice can be try to focus on your duty for now. We have to find Loki. Everything else will come with time."

She nodded. She could do that right now, try to stay focused on her duty.

They would find Loki.

Then…they would get some answers.

IOI

A strange procession made its way across the countryside outside of Kirkwall.

It was something that had not been seen in several millennia, a gathering of the Children of Fen'Harel. All elvhen, all clad in black robes. Most wore masks, depictions of the face of their lord.

At the head of the group walked Locien, he had shed his grey warden armor in favor of the robes of a high priest of the children, fifty of his best followers accompanied him.

In the center of the procession, four of the elves carried a litter. On it rested the vessel wrapped in a sacred shroud, and anointed with holy oil.

The vessel, this would be the body of the Avatar.

Loki smiled.

It was just clay now, but soon…soon…

It would be so much more.

The children chanted as they made their way to the mountain of Sundermount. Prayers said to the dread wolf, asking for his favor in this endeavor.

Asking him to aid their people, and deliver them the future they had all imagined.

The future that Locien had imagined since he had been a child.

A elvhen empire, a place of vast golden cities, cities whose Alienages were filled with filthy starving shems.

_Let them know what it was like to lose everything. Let them watch as their history and culture was erased, replaced by superior elvhen beliefs._

A hundred years from now, the Maker would be just a memory, a story told by shems to give them hope that things might get better one day.

Locien intended to see that that day never came.

The humans deserved their fate.

_They deserved to suffer._

The Dalish noticed a young acolyte near the front of the procession, his head bowed in prayer.

Locien went up to him.

"How are you Solen?" he asked.

Lin's brother smiled at him.

"Proud, Keeper," he said, "Eager to write my name in history. Ready to see our people enter a new golden age."

Loki laughed.

"It will be that," he said happily, "By this time tomorrow, the age of humanity will come to an end."

"We will be free," Solen added, "No more begging, no more laboring for the scraps from their tables."

"Our names will be remembered for ages," Locien promised, "We will be considered the right hand of a god. We will be gods ourselves."

Solen frowned.

"I don't want to be worshipped, Keeper," he said, "I want what is best for our people."

"Of course, young one, of course," Locien said soothingly.

He smiled at his young charge.

_Time for a little distraction._

"Kelly has not taken her eyes off you, my friend."

Even with his mask, Loki could tell that boy was blushing.

"I am doing this for her as well," he said shyly.

"She knows lad, and she will reward you properly after, I think."

The boy nodded, he fell silent.

_There…that should keep his idealistic mind busy._

Locien did his best to suppress a frown.

Solen was a good boy with a bright future, he had talents that he did not even realize he possessed yet, but he did not understand ambition, ambition was needed to move their people forward. To drive the shems and their allies into the sea.

Locien had ambition a plenty.

Soon, the Avatar would walk their world, Kirkwall would fall first, and then the rest of the world in the months to come.

_Centuries of shame and torture would finally be avenged._

The Avatar would lead them to glory, but it was Locien who would advise him.

He would reap the rewards from their master's side.

_And those rewards…would be __**great!**_

IOI

It was almost nightfall again by the time that the wardens came within sight of Kirkwall. A cold evening breeze blew across the land.

Stroud called them to a halt.

There was a strange burning smell in the air.

"What is that?" Lin sniffed, she wrinkled her nose.

Nug came up next to Stroud, he had his daggers out.

"Smells like smoke and death," the dwarf growled, "Like a battle."

"We have not heard anything about that?" Carver said.

"Could Loki be behind this, Stroud?" Arika asked.

The leader did not respond, Loki did not have access to an army, at least Stroud did not think he had.

The senior warden decided to err on the side of caution; he had left the three refugee children in an inn along the Kirkwall road.

That was for the best, especially if they were marching into trouble.

The night sky glowed over Kirkwall, far brighter than he had ever seen it; even the foundries of Lowtown did not produce so much light.

Carver looked up at the mountains where Hightown was nestled against the black cliffs.

Even in the distance he saw the flicker, the rising light.

"Oh Maker!" the young warden gasped.

They all knew what was happening now.

The battle was not outside the city.

It was inside the city!

Kirkwall…was in flames!


	11. This is War

**Chapter 11: This is War**

The people of Kirkwall's worst fears had been realized.

The Qunari invasion had begun.

Citizens were hunted like dogs through the streets, either killed outright, or dragged off to be given the choice to submit or die.

It had been centuries since the treaty bringing peace between the Qun and the rest of Thedas had been signed.

A treaty, that now, the Qunari had abandoned!

The people of Kirkwall…would suffer!

IOI

"**Basra! Vinek kathas!"**

The horned gray-skinned warrior threw himself at Carver, his slay-spear barely missing the young warden's head. Their swords came together with a resounding clang!

Carver braced himself against the Qunari's strength, all around him battle raged, Kirkwall had turned into a warzone. City Guards battled Qunari, but were forced to give ground to the much stronger gray warriors.

Carver altered his tactics, he back pedaled suddenly, forcing the soldier to fall back, or be impaled on the warden's great sword. The two men's weapons collided anew.

_Madness,_ Carver thought, _totally and utterly __**madness!**_

IOI

Entry into the city had been surprisingly easy, no guards held the gates and no Templar patrols were seen anywhere. It seemed that the city had been completely overwhelmed. Qunari forces were everywhere.

Stroud had hoped to find Loki and flee before they were forced to engage either side. They had decided to check the Alienage first, if an elf was looking for a place to hide, that would likely be a good starting point.

Normally, the Qunari respected Grey Warden sovereignty; they understood that the wardens were neutral in such matters.

The wardens came across a single Qunari battle group as they moved through Lowtown.

Stroud held out his weapon in a non-threatening manner.

"We are Grey Wardens simply passing through," he informed their leader, "We have no stake in your issues with Kirkwall, let us pass by, and we will be on our way."

The Qunari leader hissed in his foreign tongue, and urged his warriors forward.

These Basra would be confined or killed.

Lin put an arrow through his eye.

Siobhan traded magical blows with a Qunari mage, while the rest of the party engaged the warriors.

Arin lunged into the battle like a demon, his blade finding weak spots in armor and severing limbs.

Any wounds the Qunari inflicted on the reaver just added to their problems.

The male reaver frenzied, tearing into the pride of the Qun.

He had heard stories about the Qunari, it was said their skill as warriors was without equal.

Perhaps here, he would find the death he had been seeking, that he had craved all this time.

Perhaps here, he would find his honor again!

IOI

Carver was having little luck with his opponent; the warrior was good, skilled even for one with warden training.

He might have killed Carver before he had joined the order, but he would not kill him now.

Now, he not only had his own skill, but the skills of his allies as well.

Grey, the Qunari grey warden, ended the duel, his blade removing the warriors head.

The large man snorted.

"They are fanatics," he spat, "To think I may have become one of them."

Carver regarded his fellow warden curiously.

"You don't feel bad about killing them?" he asked, "You are Qunari to after all?"

Grey glared at him.

"No, I am **not** Qunari, I…am a Grey Warden," Grey responded, "I was raised around humans, cared for by human parents, the people back home knew what I was, but they eventually came to realize that I did not serve the Qun. They taught me the value of free choice, I know who I am, I have purpose without surrendering myself to the Qun. I am Grey. I am a warrior that is all I need to know."

Carver nodded, he was grateful the big man was on their side.

Alistair and Nigel finally managed to bring down the Qunari mage, but the battle had been costly, two of Nug's men had fallen, leaving his scouting group down to only five, including himself and Grey. Stroud's people had been lucky; Veryan had lost the tip of his right ear to a Qunari blade. Arthian teased him about it, but beyond that the elf seemed unharmed.

Siobhan healed all the minor cuts and burns before they proceeded.

Arin looked enraged; the reaver was thirsty for more blood, still hunting his just death.

The senior warden thought that he just might find it, if he was not careful.

Stroud ordered the rest of them forward.

They still needed to search the Alienage, and hopefully find Loki.

Stroud did not think that they were that lucky to have the Qunari have killed the little bastard.

IOI

The Alienage was empty by the time they arrived, the elves either in hiding in darktown, or rounded up by the gray-skinned attackers.

Stroud shook his head.

Had Loki even entered the city?

Was there anywhere else nearby where he might flee?

He spoke with Carver, being from Kirkwall, he might have some idea.

Carver suspected that the Dalish, who lived at the foot of Sundermount, might be the best place to check.

Stroud considered this.

Would these Dalish shelter Loki? If they did, how far would they go to protect him?

In the end, it did not matter, Loki was a warden, and would be held accountable for his actions according to the warden code.

They left the Alienage, hoping to slip out of Kirkwall before anymore Qunari noticed.

Three Qunari battle groups ambushed them.

Carver and Arika fought back to back. The two wardens' blades sang as they engaged the enemy. Sadly, they were outnumbered this time. Nug and Arthian both suffered deep wounds, the Qunari brought up another of their bound mages.

It seemed that the battle was over.

Fire rained down from the sky!

It blasted the Qunari!

The Sten engaging Stroud, straightened, he gasped as a glowing hand phased through his chest, crushing his heart.

Great black roots sprang from the ground, crushing Qunari warriors where they stood.

Carver laughed.

He should have known.

From across the street they emerged. He saw Merrill and Anders directing their magic at the attackers. Varric and Sebastian, who Carver had only met briefly, fired bolts and arrows at the ox-men scattering them. Fenris and Aveline cut a bloody path through the Qunari troops, giving the wardens a breather, allowing Siobhan to heal their wounded.

That is when Carver saw him…

That is when he saw his brother.

That…is when he saw Garrett.

IOI

Garrett Hawke was a man transformed.

Once he had been a man who loved to joke, he was snarky, but there was never any cruelty in his jibes. He had been a man who loved his family, who defended his friends and the principles that his Father had taught him.

That man…was gone.

Garrett stood apart from the others, his eyes cold and empty. Rabbit snarled at his side, keeping the Qunari back, while swirls of blood magic and fel fire danced at the mage's fingertips. Red flame blazed in his eyes, he gestured at one of the Qunari mages…

The flesh melted from its bones!

Carver shuddered, was…was this what losing mother had done to Garrett?

Then he realized something, someone who should have been at Garrett's side, but was not.

Isabela was nowhere in sight.

A Qunari soldier managed to get past Rabbit, he dove into the blood shield that Hawke had surrounded himself with.

The ox-man turned to ash.

Carver shook his head.

This was not his brother anymore!

The few remaining Qunari retreated, Garrett let them go, he had sated his bloodlust for today.

He finally noticed Carver.

"Why am I not surprised," the young warden said, he should have known that Garrett would likely find himself in the thick of things here.

The magic faded, Garrett looked so sad, beaten, shock was reflected in his eyes.

"Carver?" he said.

"Hello brother," Carver replied, "I thought you said you only used blood magic as a last resort."

Hawke glared at him.

"Things have changed," Garrett replied.

"Well, this is all horrible," Alistair said shrugging, his foot kicking an empty Qunari helmet, "I suppose it is too late to try and bribe these Qunari with cookies?"

Grey gave him a strange look.

"Why would cookies work?" he asked.

The former Templar grinned.

"I have it on good authority that Qunari suffer from cookie withdraw, they have none in their lands."

"Alistair, not now," Lin sighed.

He wisely shut up.

Stroud shook his head.

"The Qunari are fools," he said coldly, "This act will surely lead to war between them and the Free Marches."

"To say the least," Aveline said, cleaning off her sword.

She turned to Stroud.

"Can we count on you to aid us wardens," she asked, "This attack must be opposed."

Carver wanted to offer his help, so did Alistair and Lin, but in the end Stroud had the final say.

_They still needed to find Loki._

Stroud shook his head.

"I am sorry, but our duties must take us from this place, and our neutrality forbids such actions."

The guard captain deflated slightly, she had been hoping to find allies.

"I am sorry," Carver mouthed to her.

"Our business is elsewhere," Stroud said, "Hopefully it will not mean more harm to your city. We cannot aid you, but we will carry news of this attack elsewhere. Kirkwall will not stand alone for long."

"Thank you," Garrett said, though it was clear from the angry look on his face that he did not mean it totally.

"Farewell, brother," Carver said turning to follow his fellows.

"Carver wait!"

Garrett's words stopped him. He sounded…he sounded like he was almost ready to burst into tears.

"Mother…she…she is gone…I…"

"I know Rett," Carver said, "Gamlen wrote me.

The elder Hawke lowered his head in shame.

Surprisingly it was Arika who stepped forward.

She embraced the mage.

"You have my sympathies for your loss," she whispered.

Garrett was surprised.

"I…I thank you Arika. I…I don't know what to say?"

She gave him a sad look.

"Your Mother was kind to me, she deserved a better end," the reaver replied.

Hawke nodded weakly.

"May your enemies fall before your blade, Garrett Hawke," she said holding up her sword in salute, "May they know fear before your shadow…the shadow of a dragon's wings."

"May the Maker go with you," Garrett responded, "And watch over you in your business."

She thanked him and returned to the others.

The way to the docks is clear," Garrett told them, "We have cut a path for you, but watch out, a few Qunari converts may remain there, lying in wait."

Stroud nodded good to know.

The wardens moved quickly, hoping to avoid anymore Qunari surprise.

One remained behind, at least for a few moments.

There was someone she needed to speak with.

IOI

"Fenris."

The elven warrior paused, Lin stood before him, she seemed troubled.

He gave her a sympathetic look.

He knew the archer's heart, if she could have stayed to aid them, she would have.

That was not meant to be, sadly.

"You should not linger," he warned her, "Your allies move quickly."

"This will not take long," she promised.

The two elves regarded each other nervously, feelings that neither liked to acknowledge warred on their faces.

"Be careful," she said, it was not the words that she wished to say, but she hoped that he would understand.

"You should be careful as well," he replied, "I take it this 'business' of yours is dangerous?"

"Probably," she admitted.

They started to move apart, his hand, went out, the back of their hands touched briefly.

She leapt forward into his arms; she kissed him, a kiss full of fire and lust.

It lasted for only a moment, but that was enough, enough to say all the words that needed to be said.

They slipped from each other's grasp.

"Goodbye," she whispered as she slipped into the burning night.

Sighing, he watched her go, she…she was a strange woman…strange, but wonderful at the same time.

He hurried after Hawke and the others.

Kirkwall was still in danger.

They still had a job to do.

IOI

Carver had waited for her to catch up.

He had suspected that she might want to talk to Fenris.

Lin gave him a sad smile as she passed by him.

Carver glanced over his shoulder, at the spot where his brother had left.

Why was Isabela not here? She should have been fighting at his side? If she had been killed…

No, Carver did not think the pirate queen had been killed, Garrett would likely have been more angry if she had.

No…he feared that Isabela had reverted, that she had chosen to save herself, rather than help her friends.

He shook his head.

He knew he should not have been surprised, but he did feel…

Disappointed.

IOI

Arika moved quickly as they made their way out of the city, her senses on full alert, looking for any sign of enemies.

The twins were at her side.

"Who was that elf with the silver hair," Arthian asked, "The one with Lin?"

"Her potential mate," the reaver informed him.

Both twins looked shocked.

"You mean…Lin **does **like men?" Veryan asked, his hand touching his damaged ear.

"Why…well why did she choose him?" Arthian asked defensively, "What does he have that we don't?"

"Shall I make a list," Arika said dryly.

"Heeeeey," the two said in unison.

Chuckling the reaver picked up the pace, eager to be out of this place.

Both twins shook their heads.

"We should go back and kill him," Arthian offered.

"No," Veryan said, "Lin would have our guts for garters."

"So what do we do? We can't simply do nothing."

The brothers considered this.

"Let's kill Loki," Arthian offered, "We can pretend it is mister silver hair."

"That could work," Veryan agreed, "It might even be fun."

Pleased that they had a plan the elves continued on.

They followed after their fellows.

IOI

The sound of battle retreating as the moved away, the wardens were battered, bloody, and tired, but they pushed on towards Sundermount.

To where they would face Loki…to where they would face the Avatar…

…_To the place where their world would change._

Above them on the cliffs of Kirkwall, Garrett Hawke rained down fire and death on the Qunari, moving closer and closer to the Viscount's Keep.

Closer and closer to finding his destiny…

_A Champion was about to rise._


	12. The Night of the Wolf

**Chapter 12: The Night of the Wolf**

A dream had woken Keeper Marethari from her slumber. She sat up quickly, her heart pounding in her ears, and her breath coming harsh and ragged.

Something was coming, something not right, that should not exist in this world.

She gathered up her robes and staff, this was not the time to sleep, this…was the time to be on guard.

The Dalish woman emerged from her Aravel; she sniffed the air, and felt the wind blowing on her skin, rustling her gray hair.

The Keeper sighed.

She had dreamed of Mahariel.

Not Lyna, oh no, not the brave da'len who had saved them all. No, she had dreamed of Keeper Mahariel, the girl's father, the one to whom she had been First.

_If only he was still alive. The clan could have used his help right now._

The dream had been about the two of them. It had been a conversation they had had long ago, back when she was still da'len herself.

She had been reading quietly one night, listening to the birds and the trees.

He had stood over her, watching the night sky, a grim look on his face.

She had smiled then, there was nothing to fear after all, the moon still shone, the stars blazed.

What was there to be afraid of?

He cleared his throat loudly; she glanced up into his stern visage.

Her ears turned pink, and lowered slightly.

"Have…have I done something wrong, Keeper?" she had asked.

He sighed heavily.

"You need to grow more attune to the signs around you da'len," he had said, "Things are not always as they appear. Not all nights belong to the Creators."

Mahariel glanced up at the moon; it had taken on a greenish tinge.

Marethari looked up, for the first time she felt a sense of malevolence.

She glanced at her mentor, as he stood straight and proud before her.

He glared up at the sky, as if his will alone could push back the darkness.

She almost believed that he could.

"Some nights," he said quietly, "Belong to the dread wolf."

He had meant his words to serve as a warning, and it was a warning she had never forgotten.

IOI

Now that Clan Sabrae was stranded outside the human city of Kirkwall, she found herself growing wary. They could see the fires from the city. She could sense the violence, the war that had come to the humans.

She would not let this violence touch her people; she would defend them to her dying breath!

Of course, there was something more going on here, something that had nothing to do with the humans and the Qunari. The old malevolence had returned to the sky.

Tonight, the stars belonged to **him.**

Tonight, was once again, the eve of the wolf.

She shuddered, tonight the magic of the dread wolf would hold sway, tonight the mortal world was close to his domain…too close.

"Keeper?"

She turned, Fenarel stood before her, still armed and armored, he had been on look out tonight.

"Yes, da'len?" she said, "What is it that troubles you so?"

The young hunter looked grim.

"A large group of outsiders is approaching, Keeper. They are bearing a litter, and are all armed."

Her face turned sad.

_Did this city bring them nothing but blood and death?_

"Are they human?" she asked.

"No Keeper," he said, "They appear to be elvhen, but they are clad in black robes, and wearing masks."

Marethari's face fell. Who would be wearing masks on the eve of the wolf? Who would dare approach Sundermount so armed, and bearing a litter? The night of the wolf was no time for travel, what possible business could they have here?

Why would they come to us?

Why would any elvhen seek out the mountain now? Unless…

Unless…

The Keeper's bearing turned grim. She suspect who these outsiders in black might be.

_The clan needed to be ready. They needed to prepare._

"Waken the other hunters," she ordered, "Get the da'len to safety. We must not allow these outsiders to pass."

The hunter looked worried.

"Who are they Keeper?"

She frowned deeply.

"I fear they are the slaves of the trickster," she said coldly, "They seek something on Sundermount, something that we cannot let them have."

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper," the young hunter ran to carry out her orders.

She gave Fenarel a sad look, she knew that she asked much of them, but wolf's servants would likely come for only one reason.

_They had come to end the world._

Marethari would not let that happen!

IOI

She stood outside the camp, all who could fight stood with her.

She saw the procession approaching. She noted the black robes, and the masks bearing the face of their dark master.

Marethari planted her staff in the ground.

_They would go no further!_

She counted at least fifty elvhen, mostly flat-ears she thought, but no doubt some Dalish among them as well, though these were not of the people anymore.

They were servants of the wolf, desiring only death and destruction.

The leader of the ones in black called them to a halt.

Marethari stood before her hunters; she could hear them load their bows.

"Servants of the wolf," she called out to the dark ones, "You are not welcome here! Turn back, NOW!"

A single elvhen left protection of his group; he removed his hood and mask.

Marethari's eyes widened.

"YOU!" she spat.

"Hello Marethari," Locien purred evilly, "Do you remember me?"

She did remember him, from the last gathering of the clans. He had been just a da'len then, eager to become Keeper Yevven's First.

That had not happened.

"I remember you well Locien," she said, her ears flattening slightly in anger, ""Your Keeper spoke highly of you…once."

The elven warden gave her a cold smile.

"All I ever wanted was to serve our people," he said sadly, "But Yevven schemed against me, he chose his inferior nephew for First, and I was left to find a new path to save our people."

"This will not save us, '**THAT' **will not save us," she said motioning towards the litter, "Let the wolf's child rest da'len, remember your heritage, and stand with your people."

Locien snorted.

"You sound like my old Keeper," he spat, "So afraid of change, so unwilling to turn to powers that will take us to glory."

"The Avatar if Fen'Harel is a trick," Marethari growled, "It cares nothing for life, and all it will know is how to end it. It will turn on you once it is born into this world, mark my words."

Kelinda stepped forward, she glared angrily at Marethari.

"You cannot stop the prophecy! Our people will have a new future. The Creators have abandoned us, only the wolf can save us now!"

The Keeper shook her head; the impatience of da'len still shocked her.

"I beg of you, turn away from this path," she called out, "Forget about ushering this evil into the world, all of you will regret it. You think you will be saviors, but all you will become is the creature's first victims."

"Enough," Locien spat, "I grow weary of your ranting old woman! Stand aside or we will be forced to move you!"

The Keeper refused to back down, she could not let this happen! The Avatar could not be allowed to be born into this world.

Too many lives would suffer if it did.

Locien refused to back down, he strode forward, he grinned eagerly as he approached the line of Dalish hunters.

Emerald flames flickered in the young elven mage's hands.

Marethari summoned a shield spell to protect her followers.

It…would not be enough.

Three others stood beside Loki, similar spells glowed in their hands.

_Other mages, as she had feared!_

_It did not matter, they would go no further!_

IOI

It was clear that the Dalish would not let them pass.

That was fine with Loki.

He gave the order….

And the dying began.

IOI

Almost two hours later, the wardens reached the Dalish Camp.

They found the place badly damaged, several Aravel had been reduced to smoldering wrecks.

Alistair gasped.

He…he knew the markings on these Aravel.

This was Clan Sabrae!

These were Lyna's people!

He had only ever met Ashalle, but he knew many of their names. Lyna had spoken often of them.

If the Qunari had hurt his wife's family, they would pay dearly for it!

Five Dalish hunters emerged, their bows ready to defend the wounded.

"Hold shemlen!" the lead hunter said, "We have no time for your kind now!"

Stroud stepped forward, his hands up and unarmed.

"We are Grey Wardens," he called out, "We seek one of our own who has fled the order and his duty. A Dalish elf named Locien!"

The hunters tensed, their fingers tightened on their bows.

Some even snarled with fury!

"I guess we know who did this now," Alistair said grimly.

He could feel the tensions in the air, if he did nothing this would likely turn into a bloodbath.

_He did not want that, this was his wife's __**family.**_

_It was his family now__** too.**_

He threw down his sword and shield and approached.

"I am Alistair," he called out, "Bond mate of Lyna Mahariel, I wish to speak to your Keeper in the name of one we both love."

That drew the hunters up short; many knew that Mahariel had decided to bond with a shemlen.

The fact that he was here…

"Al-lee-stair?" a shy voice said from behind the hunters' line.

A gray haired elven woman approached, it was clear that she was no warrior, but she approached none the less.

He smiled sadly.

"Hello Ashalle," he said smiling, he had not seen the woman since the victory celebration in Denerim almost four years ago. In truth he was surprised to see her here. He had assumed she, and the rest of the clan had journeyed to the lands near Ostagar, the lands his wife had secured for her people.

The old elf smiled sadly.

"Andaran atish'an, Lethallin," the old woman replied, she turned to the lead hunter, "How is my Lyna, is she well?"

"Still fierce, still too proud," he said dryly, "Same old, Lyna."

Ashalle smiled sadly, she turned to the lead hunter.

"This man is not out enemy," she said, "He is wed to one we all love, stand down, please."

The hunter tensed.

"I…I shall summon the Keeper," he said, "She will decide how best to proceed."

IOI

One of the hunters ran off to fetch Marethari; she was quite busy, trying to heal their wounded.

The Keeper herself came to meet with them, she looked wan and sad. Four of their own had perished this night, and still the servants of the wolf had continued with their dark purpose.

_They had tried to stop the dark ones, but they had __**failed!**_

Ashalle spoke with her in rapid Dalish, she vouched for Alistair, he was an honorable man, for a shemlen, and part of the clan by marriage.

Marethari glanced up she recognized another of the wardens.

"Andaran atish'an, young Hawke," she said addressing Carver.

"Greetings Keeper," he replied with a short bow, "We seek the Dalish mage Locien, he has fled his duty…"

"He is no longer one of the people. He has also done all this," the Keeper said motioning to the destruction around them.

The wardens bowed their heads, even Nug flinched.

It seemed that their brother, their former brother, had an appetite for destruction.

Siobhan offered to help, if the Keeper granted her blessing that they could enter.

The Keeper nodded, she would not turn away help when their need was great, and the situation dire.

The mage worked quickly, she could not repair all the damage, but what she did bought the Keeper precious time.

_They would need it._

Above them, the sky rumbled, storm clouds had begun to gather over the summit of the mountain, clouds that birthed emerald lightning.

The Keeper looked up in fear.

The summoning had begun.

"The world requires your aid warriors," she said to the wardens, "Locien; the wolf's servant seeks to do great evil this night. He seeks to end our world."

"What do you mean Keeper?" Alistair asked, "Locien has never been a good man, but this seems extreme even for him."

The Keeper sighed.

"He and his followers seek to unleash an evil that we have feared since the days of Elvhenan. He seeks to bring the destroyer into this world, the child of the wolf, the Avatar of Fen'Harel."

Alistair gasped.

Lyna had told him some of their stories and histories. She…she had wanted him to know something about her people. She had spoken by the fire, telling tales to him and Leliana. As the blight had raged, she had spoken of another ancient evil; she had told him stories of this Avatar.

_A being she also had referred to as the world ender._

According to Dalish lore, it was as evil as an Archdemon. If it was born into this world?

Alistair shuddered.

"We have to go after him," Alistair warned Stroud, "We can't let Loki summon that demon into this world."

Marethari gave him a sad look.

He was missing the point. A mortal being could be far more evil than any demon.

"It is no demon," Marethari told him, "It is something far worse. A mortal being, born with the powers of one of the darkest creatures in our world, power corrupts, and this…avatar's…power will be near limitless when it reaches full strength."

She approached Alistair and Carver; she laid her tiny hands on their chests.

"We must tend to our wounded, and secure the safety of our da'len. We shall send who we can to help soon. Please, you must stop Locien, he knows not what he seeks to unleash. He believes that the creature will bring a new age for our people. He is being deceived, the avatar cares nothing for the elvhen, Locien and his followers will become the first of its victims."

How do we stop this Keeper?" Carver asked.

"You must stop the ritual, stop them from pouring life into the vessel, it will be clay figure, filled with the souls of the innocent."

Stroud's eyes narrowed.

_So that was why Blainswood had to die, Loki needed souls to feed this monster!_

_The elf would pay for __**this!**_

"Time grows short," Marethari warned them, "If you are too late, if the Avatar has risen, you must let Locien complete his foul ritual, he must be allowed to bind the creature to a mortal soul. There will be a brief period where it will be weak…newly born. At that moment you may slay the avatar, and save our world."

Stroud began to bark orders; they did not have much time.

The wardens proceeded up Sundermount.

They knew Loki had likely left traps behind, but they had no choice.

This madness had to be ended…NOW!

Marethari stopped Carver, she gave him one final warning.

"Remember what I have said, the dread wolf is a trickster, a creature of deceit and lies. Its spawn will be something worse. It cannot live. It must not live!"

The young warden nodded, he hurried after the others.

Marethari watched them go.

She prayed to the Creators that the humans would succeed.

She returned to caring for the wounded, she had to get the hunters back on their feet.

If the wardens failed, perhaps they would at least injure the Avatar; give the Dalish a chance to end this.

If not…they would all likely fall…

…and the world with them.


	13. The Summoning

**Chapter 13: The Summoning**

The Procession had reached the graveyard on the summit of Sundermount.

Locien's eyes wandered over the ruins excitedly, his breathing came in gasps, his heart pounded like a war drum.

It was time, after so many years of careful planning and waiting, the time had finally arrived.

_The summoning was about to begin._

He turned to address his followers; they needed to understand the significance of this day of days.

Tonight, the world of the shems would finally come to an end. Tonight, the quick-blooded trash would find an enemy that even they could not hope to defeat. The dwarves, the Qunari, they had only one fate in store for them, subjugation and eventual extermination!

This world belonged to the elvhen, it was theirs by right.

_Tonight, Fen'harel would bring the Avatar into this world. The elves would be their own masters again._

And the children of Fen'Harel would be given far more, they would be given power over the stars, they would be masters of life and death.

_Locien, and his followers, would be made __**Gods!**_

He would lead this new pantheon, he would be the greatest of them all…the mightiest of the elvhen!

_His time…had now come._

_Revenge would finally be his!_

He smiled triumphantly at his followers.

"Place the vessel of the Avatar on the high altar," he ordered, "The rest of you, form a matrix of power, we shall all be required this night. When the moon rises to its apex we must all be ready. Tonight, we kill the old world, and give birth to a new one, a better one. I shall now acquire the final item we need to complete the summoning."

Kelinda grinned fanatically at him.

"All will be as you desire Keeper," she said, "The elves shall at last know true victory over the shemlen."

He grinned, the girl was sooo loyal. He wished that she possessed the gift of magic. She would have made an excellent priest of the new order.

At the very least she could be an excellent diversion, perhaps he would mate with her when this was all over, produce a child of the true blood, of course he would first need to be purged of the taint of course.

He would discuss that with the Avatar when he had arrived.

He journeyed to one of the old tombstones, a sense of melancholy swept over him briefly. This place had been one of the last strongholds of the elves. It was here that the Tevinter mages forced the last of his people into slavery.

They took everything from us, and the shems have never given it back! They hate us, they resent us. They see our women as whores, and our men trash to be discarded.

_That ends…NOW!_

The Tevinters had held them in captivity; they had stolen everything the elves had ever been. Then…after a thousand years of captivity, the shemlen Andraste offered them freedom in exchange for their aid. Shartan, the Father of the Dales, had joined her; he had died at the same time she had, executed by the Tevinter, and all because of her faithless husband.

_Yet, another betrayal by humans, another reason that their duplicitous race deserved to be wiped out!_

Then the chantry, the church that Andraste's followers had built turned on the Dales. They could not tolerate the elves, recognizing their superiority, and so…the Dales fell.

Locien sneered; he looked forward to the Avatar's invasion of Orlais. He looked forward to striding into the grand cathedral of the shemlen, of tossing their holy books into the flames. He wanted to watch as they herded the children and females into the new alienages, to have them watch as their men were put to the sword.

They would know the shame of being conquered; the few that remained would be made to kiss the Avatar's feet, to be grateful for its mercy, to be grateful for their slavery.

They would learn all these things, he swore on the dread wolf's name!

But first, the final item was needed.

He dug his fingers into the dirt.

Two years ago, a rogue Qunari Mage had raided his clan, this mage and his followers had stolen an item of great power, the Golden Mask of Fen'Harel. The horn-headed fool had sought to use it to summon an army of demons.

_He had had such a limited imagination._

The mask had been destroyed by a company of heroes, and the Qunari had been killed, but part of it still remained in the mortal world. A piece that had been recovered by a loyal priest of the Dread Wolf, a piece that had been hidden here, to await this night.

_To await…the time of the summoning._

Locien's fingers found what he sought, he smiled as he drew out a small wooden box, a box bearing the mark of his order, his fingers shook as he opened it.

The elven mage gasped in excitement. Two large emeralds glittered in the box.

The eyes of the dread wolf, the last piece that was needed to summon the Avatar.

He plucked them from the box, his hands shook, he was trembling with joy!

_Fen'Harel, my master, with this, we shall bring your child into this world, with THIS; we shall make the lesser races your slaves!_

Locien was crying as he returned to the others. He had dreamed of this moment his entire life!

He held up the emeralds, he wanted them to see that they had won.

"The eyes are ours my friends,' he crowed, "Let the ceremony begin, let the world tremble. Tonight the elves will have vengeance! After tonight…the Children of Fen'Harel…will never DIE!"

His followers cheered, screams, tears, and embraces of pure happiness were shared. This was a most joyous occasion.

A day of both birth and death, the Avatar would be born, and the world of Thedas would die.

The time had finally come.

The summoning could begin.

IOI

Solen shivered.

This graveyard was not what he had even expected. He had expected a place of power, but the air here…it felt charged, his skin tingled, his stomach twisted into a knot.

Was…was this really what they had wanted? Was this what the Keeper had promised them? Solen had joined them on this mission because he had wanted to give his people a fresh start, a place where they did not have to live on table scraps like animals.

He had never wanted to kill anyone!

The fight with those Dalish at the base of the mountain had awakened doubts in his mind. Did they not understand that this would benefit them as well? Why had the Keeper not spoken with them, why had he not convinced them of the worthiness of their mission!

_Why had they had to fight?_

_Why…why had they needed to kill?_

Solen had killed for the first time that night, a young hunter, barely older than himself. The hunter's blood still stained his hands!

He had tried to wipe them clean, but the stains remained, the smell remained.

"Solen?"

He turned to see Kelinda; her eyes were sparkling beneath her wolf mask.

"The Keeper needs us," she reminded him, "It is time."

He nodded, trying to push his doubts aside; this…this was for the good of the elves…for all elves.

This was not the time and place for doubts.

This was the time for action.

He took his place, near Kelinda; the elves that would be a part of this ritual were needed to form the points of the summoning glyph for Locien. They would be the anchors.

Once the matrix had been formed, Locien would pour the life energy he had gathered, energy gathered from over a hundred evil souls. He would pour this energy into the Avatar, it would give this supreme being its magic, then when the moon rose to the highest point in the sky, Locien would open the door to Fen'Harel's realm.

The great wolf would give life to the vessel; the Avatar would be born into this world.

Then it would be Locien's turn, he would choose a mortal soul to inhabit the vessel. This elven soul would give the Avatar true mortal life, in that moment the Avatar would truly be born. He would be an elvhen mage of nearly limitless power!

He would lead them against the shemlen and anyone else who opposed the new elvhen empire. They would save the city elves, they would save the Dalish.

The entire world would be transformed.

At least, that is what the Keeper had promised.

Solen was no longer so sure, the look in the Keeper's eyes… the hate when he spoke of the other races.

Did the rebirth of the elves have to result in an ocean of blood?

Solen did not believe so, but it was too late now.

The elvhen needed this; he would speak to the Keeper again once this was all done.

He would make him see reason; the Avatar would make him see reason.

Such hatred could not be the only way. If elves were to be superior, should they not act as superiors and educate the lesser races?

It was the way of the humans to slaughter their enemies to the last. The elves could be better.

He believed that in his heart.

If only the Keeper could be made to see that.

If only he could see.

IOI

A strange wind began to blow across the summit of Sundermount. Storm clouds began to form.

Locien smiled.

He stood before the sacred vessel as it rested on the altar overlooking the Free Marches, the smell of the oils that anointed it tickled his nose.

He leaned forward; carefully he pressed emerald eyes of Fen'Harel into the clay eye sockets.

"Now you shall see with your Father's eyes," he whispered.

"He drew the hunger demon's chalice from his pocket, the Tevinter artifact practically pulsed with life energy, life energy stolen during the purge of Blainswood.

Life sacrificed for the greater good, for the good of the elves, and their true defended Locien.

He placed the item over the Vessel's chest.

"Now you shall taste the lives of those who have oppressed us," he whispered to the figure.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the elven mage looked skyward, rainbow colored lightning danced in the clouds.

The moon so near its apex changed color, the very feel of it changed, Locien shivered in anticipation.

The moon had turned green…green and had begun to glow…

It was no longer merely the moon.

It was the eye of Fen'Harel himself…and the dread wolf…

Was pleased.

He turned to his followers again, the wind blew his robes.

"Now my friends," he cried out, "Speak the words…just as I have taught you. The chant is needed to awaken the objects of power. It shall be the song that shall usher our Avatar into this world.

As one the elves began to chant, the words had been old…even during the time of Arlathan, words that had not been spoken ever before…

Some would say they should never have been spoken.

Locien removed another talisman from his robes; this had once belonged to the warden mage Janeka. She had used it to breach the fade and summon demons to aid her in her experiments.

Tonight it would be used to open the way for a god.

As the winds increased, and the chant rose to the sky, the magical glyph began to form; it passed from elf to elf, through Kelinda to Solen…to all of the others.

Locien could feel it; he could feel the power building.

He could feel the souls inside the hunger demon's chalice screaming, they fought as they were broken down into raw power, power that was being fed into the body of the Avatar.

Your first taste of life, he said grinning at the vessel, power…that shall be your mother's milk!

The glow of the magic took on a strange green tinge. The elves continued to chant, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, they were all sweating now, but they no longer saw with their own eyes. They were one now…one being united in a common purpose.

They were of one purpose now…

Of one voice.

One voice.

IOI

Solen whimpered.

He…he felt like he was fading away…becoming part of something that wanted to swallow him whole!

He did not want that, not for him…and not for Kelly..,

Kelly?

He fought to look at her. Her eyes glowed with the same emerald flame; her eyes were hungry and full of menace.

What had happened to her? Solen thought.

What is happening to all of us?!

"MORE!" Locien laughed, magic danced around him, its power flowing into the Avatar. His eyes were wild, crazed by the forces he had unleashed.

"MORE!" he cried in ecstasy, "Give the Avatar your courage, your will, your anger, give him the strength he needs to be born into this world. GIVE HIM THE STRENGTH HE WILL NEED TO KILL IT**! MORE, DAMN YOU ALL!"**

Solen gasped, he tried to step back, to break the circle but he could not…

He belonged to it now…there was no escape!

The young elf tried to scream, but all the emerged was the strange chant!

It was all, and he was now a part of it.

And in the heart of the magic, the vessel twitched.

Locien's eyes were wild with excitement.

It comes, he thought ecstatically.

_**HE **__COMES!_

It was glorious, it was beautiful, it was…

A smite struck him.

Screaming Locien fell out of the matrix, the other elves gasped and collapsed, but the glyph did not diminish, it was self-sustaining now. It began to shrink, drawing closer to the Altar…

…Closer to the body of the Avatar.

Locien began to rise, he spat dead leaves and dirt from his mouth, a dalish curse sprang from his lips.

_Who would dare interrupt him in his moment of greatest triumph?_

He glared at the interlopers, the shemlen disbelievers.

"It is over, Loki;" Stroud said firmly, "This madness ends…NOW!"

Locien laughed insanely.

Did Stroud know who he was talking to?

He had come to find a runaway warden, but Locien was more than that now.

_He was a __**God!**_

"You have come a long way to die…my brothers and sisters," he purred evilly.

Stroud and the other grey wardens glared at him. They all drew their weapons. Determined looks all graced their faces; they had come here to stop this.

They had come here to stop the birth of the Avatar.

Locien laughed at them…they were fools!

They were also too late!

Magic swirled around the vessel; it ignited the emeralds in the Avatar's head.

The two gems blazed with life.

The Avatar twitched, and then…stretched.

Its clay body sat up, it rubbed at the two burning points that had become its eyes.

_Like a child,_ Locien thought, _awakening from a restful nap._

Tears rolled down his cheeks, he threw back his head in his mirth.

Stroud and the others had come far too late.

The Avatar was awake, it lived.

And now…they would die!


	14. The Battle

**Chapter 14: The Battle**

Carver glared at the forces that stood against them. Fourteen wardens and one reaver faced off with over fifty of Locien's cultists, plus that Avatar creature, for Carver that was the scariest opponent of all.

When he touched the creature with his Templar senses, they…they went wild! Like a metal blade being raked across a piece of armor.

The wailing was horrifying.

Alistair and Nigel were also glaring at the creature, it did not even seem to notice them, it regarded its clay hands like something that it had never seen before. It wiggled its fingers, and looked curiously at its arms.

_The Avatar did not seem that powerful yet, maybe there was a chance, maybe they could destroy it before it fully manifested in their world._

"Remember what the Keeper said," Alistair repeated, "We have to let Locien finish his spell, he has to bond the Avatar with a soul, only then can it be truly killed."

Carver snorted angrily, he hated that they had arrived too late, all the death, first in Blainswood then in the Dalish camp.

All of it because Loki had wanted to summon this…this…thing!

Carver wanted to kill Loki, he wanted to kill him for Blainswood, but he knew he had to be patient.

The Avatar was all that mattered now.

_Sadly, some of his fellows did not agree._

"We can't let Loki get away with this," Nigel spat angrily, "He has summoned a demon, he must be destroyed for it!"

"He will," Alistair said, "But first he has to…"

Black roots exploded up from the ground, they wrapped around one of Nug's wardens, the man was crushed to death before he could even scream. The body was dragged back underground.

Loki laughed, he gestured again.

More roots sprang from the ground, wardens chopped viciously at them. They evaporated when cut, but more and more continued to flow out of the dirt.

Carver cursed, it did no good if Locien and his followers killed them all before they completed the summoning. If this Avatar was as strong as the elves feared, it could not be allowed to live.

It could not be allowed to grow stronger.

The wardens sprang forward, many of the elves had recovered from summoning the avatar, they drew blades, staves, and bows.

Three other elven mages engaged the wardens, there spells as lethal as they were ruthless.

Carver, Nigel, and Alistair used their Templar abilities to try and counter the apostates. Siobhan cast down fire and lightning trying to disrupt their enemies' efforts, they needed to survive long enough to be able to deal with the Avatar.

Arrows flew in her direction; she managed to get out of the way barely.

Loki knew them well, he knew their tactics, he had trained with them all enough to know what he needed to do to emerge victorious.

The wardens needed to adjust their tactics.

Carver tried to fight his way through Loki's followers. He severed heads and limbs as he tried to reach where the former Dalish was casting, drawing that magical glyph closer to himself.

Meanwhile, the Avatar simply watched, unsure of what it was seeing.

It must still have been gathering its strength; Carver could feel the magic coursing through the monster's body.

The wardens needed to stop it.

It could not be allowed to survive this encounter, the next time, it may be too strong to defeat.

Carver doubled his efforts…

He had to reach Loki.

IOI

Solen lay on the ground gasping. He tore off his mask, trying to regain his feet; the spell had taken so much out of him. He had to stop this; there was no reason for more death!

Kelinda and three of their friends tackled one of the wardens. Solen did not recognize him; he was not one of the ones who worked with his sister.

The elves drew curved knives from their robes; they stabbed and slashed at the warden again and again. Finally, he fell still.

Kelly leapt to her feet, her mask speckled with blood, her eyes shiny with hate.

"Death to the disbelievers," the girl ranted, her blade red with blood, "Death to the enemies of the elvhen."

The look in the girl's eyes horrified the young elf, where was the kind shy girl that he remembered from the keep? Where was the girl that he had wanted to know, that he had imagined bonding with?

He looked for the Keeper; he continued to magically attack the wardens. Three of the warden warriors were trying to reach him, but so far with little success.

Kelinda grabbed his arm; Solen nearly swatted it away, her bloody fingers left stains on his black robes.

"Come, Solen," she purred excitedly, "We still have more disbelievers to kill."

Her blood thirst shocked him; this was not the Kelly he remembered.

He let her pull him along; he was still in shock he supposed. The graveyard had become a battleground; both elves and wardens were falling around him.

The sight sickened Solen.

_Why did the Avatar not act! Why did it not stop __**this?!**_

IOI

An elven mage tried to turn Carver to stone.

He met the mage's attack by cleansing the elf of mana. The spell stiffening his limbs ceased.

He cut down the robed figure with a single swipe of his blade. Now was not the time for mercy, not with so many lives at stake.

Still, the Avatar did not move, it just sat on the Altar, it seemed curious about being able to move.

The glyph that Loki and his followers had summoned was still there, it continued to shrink, and its powers grew as the magic fed upon itself.

Loki abandoned his offensive spells, and calmly and confidently made his way towards it. He intended to step inside of it.

_Would that complete the spell,_ Carver thought.

He hoped so, the fighting was getting worse.

The elves had outnumbered them almost three to one at the start of this battle, but most were simply servants from Ansburg, some had some training, but against wardens they were basically unarmed.

Carver hated the slaughter. Most of these elves were just kids, kids who had been looking for something to believe in,

They did not deserve to die here, to die before they had even gotten a chance to live.

_Like Bethany had died._

Thinking of his dead sister filled the young warden with rage; he doubled his efforts to reach Loki. As soon as the mage finished the spell…he would be dead…

…end of story.

IOI

Lin did her best to aid her friends; she fired again and again into the elven archers, keeping them from concentrating their fire into a full volley. She did not doubt that Loki's fanatics would have any qualms about hitting their own people, not if it meant securing their victory here.

One of the robed figures attacked her with a sword; she lost her bow from his strike, but drew her daggers. The elven swordsman was good, she did not doubt that, but she…was better.

She let him get in close, she blocked with her forearm, using his own strength against him, he pushed closer to her.

She stabbed deep into his chest.

The elf gasped, and dropped his sword, but she did not draw out the blade until the light faded from his eyes.

She flung the body back.

Four of them rushed her at once, she tried to escape but soon she found her arms pinned tight. She struggled to no avail. They pushed her to her knees.

"You should have stood with us traitor," the voice of an elven girl drew Lin's attention. She looked up and saw Kelinda, at her side…

"SOLEN!" Lin cried out angrily, "What in Andraste's tits are you doing here!"

Her brother had blood on his face and hands; he looked at her with shame filled eyes. Did he finally understand what he had done here was wrong? Did he finally see how dangerous Loki was?

Did it even matter anymore?!

"Listen to her," Kelinda snorted with disdain, "She still invokes the name of the shemlen prophet, like the good little flat-ear she is," Kelinda drew her bloody blade; she held it before Lin's face.

The two holding her arms laughed arrogantly. Solen looked at her like a sad child, a child begging for his big sister's forgiveness.

She had never blamed him. She loved him, and she hoped he would remember that one day.

"Hold her tight," Kelly ordered.

She cut a small mark on Lin's face.

The archer did not flinch, her life had been threatened many times, and by foes more dangerous than a little elf girl with a knife.

Kelly smirked at her.

"Beg for your life, flat-ear."

Lin said nothing; she simply glared at the girl.

"Kelly, don't," Solen whispered.

The girl spun on him.

"She came here to stop our glorious work, to stop of the birth of the Avatar," the girl shrieked.

Solen stepped back wincing, the strange light in Kelly's eyes terrified him, and killed any sense of attraction he might have felt for her.

Something had changed in her during the ritual, any reason she possessed was now gone.

She was Locien's creature now.

"This flat-ear bitch deserves to die," she smiled hungrily.

She turned back to Lin, blade in hand.

Lin did not look away, if the girl intended to execute her, she would meet her death as a Grey Warden.

Her copper eyes held her brother. Solen kept looking back and forth, between Kelly and her, her and Kelly.

His eyes turned cold and dead.

He glared at his love.

"Let my sister go," he growled.

Kelly laughed at him, she actually laughed.

His cheeks and ears turned red with embarrassment, but then…

… With anger.

"Oh little Solen," she mewed, "What exactly is the poor little stable boy going to do to us? I should have guessed that you did not have the balls to do what needed to be done, go back to mucking your stables! The future belongs to…"

He had heard enough.

"GET AWAY!" he shrieked, his hands swept outward.

Energy pulsed from his fingertips, it hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to what Kelinda and her friends felt. They were shoved away from Lin. One hit a tombstone hard breaking his back, Kelinda and the other flew over them, the girl shrieked as she hit the ground hard.

Lin had not even been touched; the blast had passed harmlessly through her.

She looked at her brother, shocked.

Solen's elven ears drooped slightly. The glow that had surrounded his hands faded. It had started about three years ago, little things at first. He had gotten good at hiding them. He…he had not wanted his family to know, for anyone to know. That is part of the reason he had come to the Keeper for help.

He had not wanted this; he had not wanted this blighted magic!

He…he had not wanted to be taken away from his family.

He…he had not wanted to be forced into the Circle of Magi!

Lin rose, she looked at him, tears were running down his cheeks.

She pulled him tight into an embrace, her little brother, her hero.

All around them battle reigned, but for this one short moment…there was peace….

…Peace, between the two siblings, the warden…and the mage.

IOI

Locien laughed triumphantly.

It was time, he drew a dagger from his belt, he needed a drop of his blood to enter the realm of Fen'Harel, to converse with the deity, and choose a soul for the Avatar.

Then…their victory would be assured.

Let the wardens kill the other Children of Fen'Harel, he thought, as long as the Avatar survives none of them will.

"LOKI!"

He turned, Carver, Alistair, and Nigel stood before him, the light from the portal glyph casting their faces with an eerie green glow.

The elven mage laughed.

"Come to pay homage to the new ruler of this world," he laughed pointing to the Avatar; it watched the scene before it with not a whit of emotion.

It seemed to be waiting.

"This monster cannot be allowed to live, Loki," Nigel said, "It is a threat to you as well as us."

Loki's ears twitched, why were they not running, did they not realize that the Avatar was about to be born? Did they not understand…?

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

The Keeper, that elvhen bitch, had she told them that the Avatar could only be killed once the ritual had been completed.

Probably.

Locien snarled; he would deal with her later.

He lashed out at the three wardens. Their Templar abilities had been spent trying to reach him.

They would go no further.

"Kill them," he ordered, magic crackled from his fingers.

The ground rumbled beneath their feet. Skeletons, both elf and Tevinter, rose from the ground. They attacked the three wardens.

Locien proceeded towards the portal.

He had a god to speak with.

Still the Avatar did not move, it just sat on the Altar waiting…watching.

IOI

Carver battled his way through the undead, he pushed closer to Locien. They had to be ready as soon as the spell was finished.

An undead Tevinter warrior slashed his side, hitting a weak spot in the young warden's armor, blood flowed freely.

Carver staggered back.

The creature raised its sword.

An angry shriek drew its attention.

"AWAY!"

The undead turned.

Arika slashed it in half, at her side came her brother Arin, they waded into the undead, screaming like fade demons, lost in the frenzy of their blood, but it was not wild, their attacks were crisp and ruthless.

Carver shivered.

Reavers were truly terrifying.

Another undead blundered into him; he staggered back, tripping over a crumbling piece of stone.

The young warden fell…

He fell right into the glyph, the wound in his side dripped blood on the magic.

The spell absorbed it.

The magic flared… emerald flame rose to the heavens.

The portal to the realm of Fen'Harel opened.

Carver fell inside, the gateway closed behind him.

The magic sealed him inside.

IOI

Locien froze his eyes wide with shock and horror.

"No," he whispered.

He ran to the portal tried to open it with his blood, but it would not respond.

He threw back his head and wailed.

"NOOOOO!"

IOI

The Avatar finally rose; it regarded these noisy creatures with disdain.

So much noise, so much chaos, the voices of the souls within it screamed in fury, demanding death, demanding vengeance.

Those sounds filled the Avatar's basic mind, there was no real thought, only animal instinct.

Instinct to survive and survival meant only one thing.

Annihilation.

The Avatar gathered its magic; it would silence the noisy creatures.

It would bring peace to the world.

It would bring a blissful quiet!

Magic flew from the Avatar's hands; it targeted elf and warden alike.

Their reasons for fighting meant nothing to the Avatar.

It wanted peace.

It wanted quiet.

It would have it all!


	15. Invincible

**Chapter 15: Invincible**

"CARVER!"

Arika ran to her lover. She had to reach him to save him. She knew she had to try!

She could still see him, surrounded by magical flame, his body floating helplessly, suspended by the magicks of the field.

_He was like an insect stuck in tree sap, he just floated there…staring at nothing!_

_She had to get him out of that __**thing!**_

She ran towards the flames.

Alistair practically tackled her. He put all of his weight down on top of her, trying to keep her pinned.

"Let me go," she wailed, "I have to save him! Alistair, please let me go!"

"You can't go in there." He hissed in her ear.

"Carver needs me! I can't just…"

"Look at the ground around those flames," he said pointing to them, "Do you think that you will fare any better!"

She did as he asked; nothing lived where those flames touched, the grass, the moss growing on the stones…

_All life had simply been vaporized._

She could feel no heat from those flames, but it was clear that they could burn her.

There would be likely nothing left of her if she touched them.

But…they could not just give up, Carver was still alive…

At least…she thought he was still alive.

She ceased her struggles, Alistair finally allowed her to sit up. She looked up, seeing the battlefield for the first time.

This…this was no longer a battle. It had turned into a slaughter, a route, perpetrated by an army of one.

The Avatar itself.

An explosion rocked the ground around them; the Avatar continued its attack, what was behind it no longer held its interest. It had one motion now…forward…

It intended to leave Sundermount.

The wardens and even some of the elves tried to attack it, to halt its predatory advance.

The Avatar barely stopped; it pulled arrows from its body, the wounds sealed almost instantly. A strange aura surrounded the creature, protecting it from the various magical attacks that were hurled at it.

Their attacks had little or no effect.

It was almost as if the creature were toying with them.

Arin joined them then, he was dragging a furious, almost incoherent Loki with him.

The reaver threw the elf at Alistair's feet.

He had much to answer for.

IOI

Alistair dragged the struggling elf mage to his feet. All arrogance had faded from Loki's face now. He looked broken, almost on the verge of tears.

Alistair glared at him.

Loki finally looked him in the eye, fury flared in the elf mage's eyes.

"Congratulations shem," he spat, "You just doomed us all. Our world is at an end!"

The former Templar refused to hear him; he kneed Loki in the stomach, forcing the elf to vomit.

Alistair pulled him back to his feet.

"You need to stop this, Loki," he said angrily, "either send that creature back, or finish the spell so in can be killed."

The elf laughed at him, it was a cold fatalistic laugh, but it was a laugh none the less.

"Of course I will finish the spell," he sneered, "All I need to do is step through the portal and converse with our lord, convince him to grant the Avatar a mortal soul, oh wait…I can't," he turned to the pillar of flame, the one that still bound Carver.

"Carver already stepped through. The gate is already sealed, it will not open again until the master releases him," the elf frowned deeply, "He may be the lucky one. Perhaps, Fen'harel will decide to destroy him, sparing him our fate."

"YOU EVIL BASTARD!" Arika spat, she held her sword to the elf's neck, "You are the cause of all of this. Give me one good reason not to slit your throat?"

He gave her a wan smile.

"You would be doing me a favor at this point," he said, "Kill me please; better a death at your hands than the Avatar's."

Alistair shook him like a ragdoll, fury flashed in his eyes. He had only ever hated Teyrn Loghain this much.

_He wished very much to give the elf a similar fate._

"You brought that…that thing here; surely there is something you can do."

Locien snorted, was the stupid shem not listening!

"Without a soul, I can do nothing. The Avatar is pure wild magic. It is power unbound and unguided…insane if you will. In its basic state, it is invulnerable to all weapons. Magic and steel are useless against the unbound vessel. It will not stop until it has cleansed this world. All of us are doomed," the elf's eyes turned sad, "I…I wanted to give my people a new world to call their own, and now we shall share your fate. Our…our kingdom shall die here…stillborn. It…it would have been glorious…"

Alistair threw him hard to the ground. Locien did not even bother to try and get back up. The three warriors ran off to try and help stop the Avatar.

_How foolish they all were…there was no escape now…no hope._

Locien resigned himself to his fate. He would never see a new elvhen empire.

It was truly a shame.

_It would have been __**glorious.**_

IOI

The Avatar waded into the elves and wardens like a storm, emerald flame leapt from its fingertips, explosions rocked the graveyard atop Sundermount.

_Noise…so much noise!_

Though it had no ears, the Avatar could hear. Though it had no nose, it could still smell. These…these strange beings, so unlike itself were chaotic and unpredictable, and what was worse…there was so many of them.

The Avatar could feel them, all of them, filling the world with their noise and chaos. It longed for the peace of the abyss. It wished quiet down upon these noisy disgusting creatures, which were nothing like itself.

_It would destroy them; it would leave the world in wonderful silence._

It would begin here, and from here…spread…soon all the world would be quiet and only the Avatar would remain.

_It would be…and improvement._

It could do it itself, it realized that, but why do all that work when other tools were available?

It would forge an army, a wall that would bring peace to the world. Soon all the world would fall into blissful silence.

The Avatar approved of such a change.

_All that remained…was to make those plans a reality._

It advanced on the first of its new army, a wounded creature with pointed ears.

_This creature would be the first to change, to give up its ways and embrace the silence._

The first of many…the dawn of a new world!

The Avatar could no longer wait.

IOI

Kelinda opened her eyes.

She tried to rise, only to find that her leg had been broken, she cursed loudly, looking for a healer, looking for someone to help get her back in the fight.

Damn you Solen, why did you not tell me you had the gift? Why did you decide to turn against us…against me for some flat-ear bitch?

A shadow fell over her; she looked up, hoping to see one of her own.

The Avatar glared down at her with its glowing green eyes.

Kelinda bowed to it.

IOI

"I live to serve, master," she said respectfully, "Give me the strength to destroy these enemies of the elvhen and I will do it.

The Avatar tilted its head; it likely did not understand her words.

Of course, it did not need to, not for what it had in mind.

The creature's eyes flared.

Kelinda gasped, magic washed over her, rage filled her mind, it was like a flame, all conscious thought was obliterated by it.

All that remained with the desire to destroy…to destroy everything that was not the Avatar, that feeling…that hunger was all that was left to her.

Kelinda was dead, her mind destroyed, but that was fine with the Avatar, only her body was needed, after it had been improved of course.

Her body began to change.

Her robes tore as muscles swelled on her lithe frame. Fur sprouted from her frame, her pointed ears grew longer. A long muzzle extended from her lower face, a muzzle that filled with sharp teeth, teeth almost as sharp as the claws that now graced her fingers.

The werewolf rose.

The Avatar's thoughts filled its ruined mind.

_Destroy the noisy ones, destroy __**everything!**_

The werewolf obeyed.

It leapt on one of the elves, tearing out his throat with its teeth. It's mouth filled with blood, as it spat and snarled.

It saw another target, a warden.

It leapt at him.

An arrow pierced the werewolf's eye, it staggered, its clawed hands tore at the shaft, but its strength failed it.

The werewolf that had been Kelinda collapsed, her body joining her destroyed mind in death.

The Avatar did not lose hope.

Its eyes flared anew.

Across the battlefield wardens and elves collapsed, they cried out in pain, in agony!

The change took away all reason…all conscious thought.

They turned their teeth and claws on their fellows.

Had the Avatar had a mouth, it might have smiled.

This…was just the beginning.

IOI

Arin threw himself at the monster, his great sword cut deep into its clay shoulder, its torso almost split in half.

The wet clay reformed itself around the blade. The Avatar's hand shot out to quickly to be stopped; it snared Arin by the throat.

It lifted the warrior into the air, but not before removing his sword from its chest, and tossing the useless weapon away.

_Now what to do?_

It debated breaking the little thing that had tried to hurt it. It wondered what would happen if it crushed the struggling creature's neck?

Arika attacked from behind.

She sliced the Avatar's head off. It released her brother dropping him to the ground.

The Avatar kneeled down; its hands questing for its severed head, the eyes pulsed, directing the body's search.

It scooped up the head and reattached it to its neck.

Arika tried to attack again.

The Avatar released a pulse of magical energy, pushing the female reaver back.

It turned to her; it intended to turn the annoying thing into another of its soldiers.

A blast of cold air enveloped the Avatar, icicles formed on its fingers. The clay body froze solid quickly. Soon just an ice covered statue remained.

Siobhan staggered with exhaustion, the creature was unlike anything she had even heard of…

That elven keeper had spoken true, this was no mere demon.

Green flame consumed the Avatar, the ice melted, the creature moved again.

It turned to Siobhan, it glared with its two burning eyes.

IOI

"DON'T TOUCH HER MONSTER!"

Nigel plunged his sword into the Avatar's stomach; he twisted the blade, in a normal being that would have been enough to put it on its back.

The Avatar did not even flinch.

It backhanded Nigel, he flew back, landing at its feet.

The creature's eyes flared.

Nigel began to scream.

IOI

Siobhan could only watch.

She stared in horror as the Avatar twisted the man she loved. His armor tore from his body as the change occurred; dark fur covered him, a long black muzzle sprouted from his face.

His gray eyes turned green and feral.

It only took a moment.

Where Nigel had once lay, now…only a werewolf remained.

The Avatar continued on its way out of the graveyard, the mage and her lover forgotten.

Siobhan felt tears stinging her eyes.

No…this could not be happening! Not to him…not to her Nigel.

The werewolf looked at her.

"Nigel?" she murmured, "My love…can you hear me?"

The beast sniffed the air; it looked at her with cold baleful eyes.

Those eyes were empty; they were cold…and full of hunger.

Siobhan suppressed a shudder.

"Nigel," she repeated, "Baby…it…it is me…it is Siobhan…remember…try to remember…for me."

The Nigel wolf snarled.

"No," the mage sobbed, "No…please…"

The beast leapt on her, its claws raking at her arms, its teeth trying to seize her throat.

The mage screamed for help…

There was no one there to aid her.

There was no one left to aid anyone.

IOI

Stroud called for a retreat, the twins, Lin, Solen and all the others began to fall back, they had killed many werewolves but there seemed to always be more.

Creating them was nothing to the Avatar, Locien had knew that the Avatar would be this way…it was the master of the hounds.

_What could mortal men and women do against that kind of power?_

_**Nothing.**_

Still, Stroud refused to surrender, they may have lost this battle, but the war was just beginning,

They needed to fall back down the mountain, try to gather more aid; perhaps with more help they could stop the creature.

_Perhaps they might even be able to convince the Qunari to aid them._

_It was unlikely, but there was still a chance…any chance was better than none._

Arika refused to leave.

If this…this thing managed to escape, it would have an army at its back in days…less if it transformed most of Kirkwall.

She could not allow that, there had to be something she could do.

Besides…she could not leave Carver…she would die before she abandoned her man!

She breathed deeply, as her father had taught her long ago, drawing strength from the pain and death around her.

She felt the fires of the frenzy building in her breast.

She glared hatefully at the monster that fool Locien had summoned.

One thing was certain; it would have to kill her to stop her.

Her life or the Avatar's, it was a fair trade.

She attacked.

Werewolves tried to block her path; she cut them down like a scythe. She could hear Siobhan screaming for help, but there was nothing that the reaver could do.

They could not allow the Avatar to leave this mountain; the damage it would cause would be immeasurable.

She plunged her sword into the creature's lower back; she had hoped to cripple it.

It whirled around knocking her from her feet.

Her blade was still lodged in its back.

She drew her dagger.

"Here monster," she cried, "I am Arika, daughter of Arik and Elosia, I am death on two legs, face me at your own peril."

The Avatar tried to turn away from her.

She lunged at it again.

She buried her dagger into the base of its clay skull.

It backhanded her, flinging her back hard, her jaw clicked, her mouth filled with blood.

The Avatar drew her weapons from its body, the clay closed the wounds, it was as if she had done nothing to the thing.

She glared up at the monster. She had bought her friends a few minutes, she hoped…

That it would be enough.

The Avatar's eyes flared again.

Arika screamed.

Her bones began to twist; claws and blond fur began to sprout from her body. A blinding fury tried to destroy all conscious thought.

Arika tried to hang on, to hang onto her anger and her love for Carver.

_She would not be this monster's pawn._

I will not submit, the reaver thought, trying to push back the rage.

_**I WILL NOT!**_

She tried to fight, to hold her form, but the rage…the anger the Avatar unleashed was too strong.

She spat blood into that horrible clay face.

The Avatar increased the strength of its spell.

Arika shrieked.

Soon her mind would be gone….

_But by the names of the dragons…she would not make it easy._

IOI

Locien sat where Alistair had left him. The elf stared at the pathetic fools trying to stop the Avatar, they were better off telling the wind not to blow.

The Avatar was pure power.

It was immortal, invincible, and unreasoning.

There was nothing that the wardens could do, that anyone could do.

_They were all doomed._

IOI

Within the magical flames, Carver stirred, the magic that held him began to change…to shift.

His lips moved wordlessly, he had not given up yet.

The world might yet be saved from Locien's mistake.

Carver was their last hope now.

Both for Thedas and the Avatar as well, he needed to speak quickly and wisely.

He needed to reason with a god.

If he did…

There might yet be hope.


	16. The Wolf's Lair

**Chapter 16: The Wolf's Lair**

Carver opened his eyes. He found himself lying on his back in a field of long brown grass.

The young warden shook his head.

_Maker…what happened?!_

He tried to sit up, vertigo nearly put him right back down on his ass. He tried to make sense of the world around him.

He seemed to be on a long narrow island, barren…except for the grass. The sky was dark, only two green lights shone in the distance.

He could not tell if they were stars or lights from some distant building.

Slowly…the warden staggered to his feet.

He wrinkled his nose, the grass had a pungent smell, he recognized it from somewhere but could not remember where or when.

It did not matter; he needed to find his way back to the others…

He needed to find some way out of here.

He started to walk, but the island shifted, he fell to his knees trying to center himself.

_What was going on? Was the island falling apart?_

The two green lights began to come closer.

_Were they lanterns then? Am I about to meet who lives here?_

"Would that please you?"

The voice he heard came from everywhere and nowhere. It sounded mocking, amused almost, it reminded him a bit of Garrett truth be told.

No wonder he did not like it.

"Is someone there?" he called out.

"Only me," the voice responded, "I have been alone for a very long time. I bid you welcome mortal, are you here for the party?"

_Party?_

The question surprised him, what in Andraste's name was going on?

"I was expecting an elf," the voice added, "You're a bit tall for an elf. Are you an offering then, or have you come to give the gift to my child?"

"Gift," Carver asked, "What gift might that be?"

"The one thing my child needs," the voice replied, "DUH."

He heard snickering; personally he did not see what was so bloody amusing about all this.

"I don't suppose that we could speak openly," Carver requested, "I would prefer to talk to someone face to face."

There was a brief pause, as if the speaker was considering his request, then…a sigh.

"Very well mortal, look up, and behold my glory."

Carver did as he was told, he looked up.

And nearly fell on his back.

The speaker's face came into view, it…it was not what he expected.

Which was an understatement considering what stood before him.

The voice belonged to a wolf…a giant wolf, one with a head as large as the Viscount's Keep back in Kirkwall, maybe larger. The two glowing green points he had seen were the creature's eyes. The ground shifted again as the wolf made itself comfortable. It was then that Carver realized another disturbing fact.

The island he was standing on was no island; it was the back of a paw, the wolf's paw. That pungent smell was the smell of a dog, or in this case a giant wolf.

Laughter filled Carver's mind, the creature found this extremely amusing.

"Behold the might that is me," The dread wolf said, its muzzle parted almost into a grin.

"TA-DA!" it said cackling.

Carver was speechless, it was clear that he was not in Thedas any longer.

The wolf blinked its large glowing eyes, waiting for him to respond.

"Has the cat gotten your tongue mortal?"

Carver was not sure how to respond, sweet Maker, this was insane!

"It's me, isn't it?" the wolf asked, he heard it sigh again, "I suppose I am much for your tiny mind to process, here…this may help."

The wolf's eyes flared.

Carver was momentarily blinded…

He felt like he was falling…

IOI

He hit the chair with a thump.

The young warden gasped, he was no longer standing before the massive creature.

Surprisingly…he was home.

Not Ansburg or even the family estate back in Kirkwall, but home. This was the Hawke family farmhouse back in Lothering. The one that he had lived in for much of his teenage years…

The home destroyed by the darkspawn.

Little things surrounded him, things that he remembered fondly, the creaking of the chair where he had eaten most of his dinners. The smell of herbs that Mother had grown, the ones that father would mix into medicine. The old dog eared journal that Father had kept until the day he had died, it sat right where they had left it.

Carver felt a twinge of sadness; he had always regretted not brining that book.

It was strange, growing up he had considered this a hovel, all he could think about was leaving this place behind, going out into the world and making a name for himself.

Now that it was gone, that he realized that he could never return; he never realized how much he had missed this place.

Of course…none of this was real, this place was gone, the darkspawn had destroyed it four years ago.

This was some kind of trick, or illusion…

He tried to remember that.

The house had been decorated he noticed, colored streamers hung from the rafters, a small cake had been set on the table.

He smiled.

He remembered that cake; it was the one from his tenth birthday party, his and Bethany's. Surprisingly no candles decorated it; the writing on it was in a language he did not understand.

On one of their birthdays, Father would set them at the head of the table, for that day only of course, he and Bethany always had to squeeze in close, being twins and all.

Today that spot was already occupied.

The Avatar sat there, staring at him curiously.

Carver almost fell out of his chair, reached to his back for his great sword.

It was not there, he was dressed in his old work clothes, the ones he had worn when working on their little farm.

The door opened.

He turned expecting to see one of his family; he was surprised when a small elven man entered.

Not that he looked like any elf Carver had ever seen of course.

He was dressed in long fur covered brown robes; his hair was long and shaggy. The elf's ears were far longer than any he had seen on their kind before. The eyes glowed with the same emerald light of the Avatar's.

"I trust you find me a little less overwhelming now, mortal?"

Carver's eyes narrowed, it was the wolf, it had changed its shape.

He knew who he was dealing with now, he had spent many nights listening to Merrill tell him stories of her people.

To be honest, at the time he had been more interested in sweet talking the Dalish into bed, but that did not mean that he had not heard her.

"You are Fen'Harel," he said coldly.

The elf-wolf smiled.

"Well done mortal," it sounded pleased, "Though you should not be surprised to meet me here, this is my domain after all."

His domain? How had he…?

Carver remembered the glyph; he remembered the fire blaze brightly around him. It…it must have been some kind of portal, an entrance into this creature's...home…realm…where ever they were.

Carver frowned, he was no mage, he did not understand such things.

He wished Garrett or Bethany were here.

"I took this place from your mind," the wolf said gesturing around them, "It was connected to many pleasant memories, an excellent place to celebrate this day of days."

"What are we celebrating Dread Wolf?" he asked.

Fen'Harel winced.

"That is one of my titles, one of many," he said with a shrug, "The dread wolf, the lord of nightmares…personally I prefer to see myself as an entertainer. I was jester to both the creators and forgotten ones, I walked between their domains, I jested for them, and made them laugh."

Carver rolled his eyes.

"A friend of mine told me you tricked them into sealing themselves away from the world, that you trapped them for all eternity."

"A joke," he said grinning disarmingly, "nothing more."

"Trapping the elven gods for all eternity was a joke?"

"It all depends on your definition of humor," he said blandly, he turned to the Avatar, "What say you my child was my jest funny?"

The Avatar stared silently at them.

Fen'Harel sighed.

"You really need a mouth," he said critically, "Not to mention…a sense of humor…hopefully this kind mortal will give you a good one."

The Avatar did not respond.

"What did you say?" Carver asked.

The wolf smiled.

"The offerings have been accepted, the sacrifices made, I have allowed you entrance into my domain. Now you must give my Avatar true life, it needs a soul, merely name one, and I shall claim it for my child."

Carver's eyes widened.

"A soul…you…you want me to kill someone?"

"Oh no," Fen'Harel replied, "I require a soul, preferably one who has already passed on. The barrier between here and the realm of the dead is very thin thanks to your ceremony. Just say a name…and we shall be done."

Carver swallowed hard…he…he could not believe what he was hearing.

"Can't you take your Avatar back? Can't you bring it back to this world?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Fen'Harel chuckled, "I have waited an eternity to have a child of my own. This night had been preordained for millennia. My child has been born, it just needs a soul, that is why you are here, choose…please."

Carver was almost speechless, he thought about all the deaths in Blainswood…all those killed so…so this thing could be born.

His temper flared.

"What if my friends destroy your Avatar? What if they succeed before I choose?"

Fen'Harel expression darkened, thunder rumbled outside the farmhouse.

"Your friends cannot slay my child," the wolf said coldly, "It is unbound magic, simple clay, invincible. As it is now…it will turn its power against your world, it will destroy everything it comes across. Nothing will be left. It feels no pain, no remorse, no fear, it will never stop."

Fen'Harel laughed.

"Let me guess," the wolf snickered, "You and your friends came to stop the birth of my child, and you accidently blundered into the portal?"

Carver did not respond, but his emotions told the truth.

The dread wolf laughed loudly.

"I don't see what is so bloody funny," Carver growled.

"Really," the wolf snorted, "You came to save your world but by interfering you have doomed it. If that isn't the greatest joke I've heard in centuries…I don't know what is?"

"The death of a world is not a joke!"

Fen'Harel grinned at him.

"It depends on your definition of humor mortal, nothing more."

Carver was speechless.

The world…the whole world was about to end.

Maker…what had they done?!

"You still have one chance," Fen'Harel reminded him, "Give my child a soul, name one and it will be done," the wolf sneered, "But choose wisely, this maybe the greatest choice in the history of your race. You will either save or damn the entire mortal world with your decision."

Carver turned green…a whimper nearly escaped his lips.

Fen'Harel gave him a sympathetic look.

"No pressure mortal," he said with an amused shrug, "no pressure at all."

IOI

Carver paced the floor of the farm house; his head swam with the responsibility that lay on his shoulders.

_A soul…one name and the world would be saved, but…if Fen'Harel was telling the truth, the Avatar wielded godlike powers._

_Who would use those powers __**wisely?**_

_Who would not be __**corrupted **__by them?_

Could anyone do such a thing?

Fen'Harel helped himself to a piece of birthday cake; he sat watching the Avatar, an almost loving expression on his elven face.

Carver was shocked; Merrill made the dread wolf out to be a monster.

This did not seem like some deadly trickster to him, a thought came to him mind.

"Have you tried having a child before?" he asked the deity.

The dread wolf's eyes turned sad.

"Many times," he admitted, "During the reign of the gods, they always sent their own Avatars to destroy mine before they were born. They said my children would be unpredictable…dangerous. Like their children were not, many times **they** turned elvendom against itself, and I was always blamed for their actions."

Fen'Harel growled, for a moment the wolf that he was shown itself, but that faded quickly, sadness returned.

"Once the gods were gone, I tried again, but I was always blocked," he snorted with frustration, "I would possess a mortal body and conceive a child with a mortal elvhen woman. Something would **always** go wrong. The Tevinters murdered my brides for the blood of my unborn children. When the elvhen were freed, I tried again. The priests of the Dales slew my children before they could ever become threats, they recognized my mark upon them."

Fen'Harel form darkened, thunder shook the house, lightning crashed outside.

"When you're kind enslaved the elvhen anew, I tried again, but the priest of the Dales remained, their eyes always watchful for my coming. Your…your chantry was equally vicious, many brilliant and talented elvhen women were burned for conspiring with demons…with me, for deciding to bear my child."

The dread wolf glared at Carver, he saw just a piece of how powerful this being truly was.

He felt fear.

"The Avatar was the best possible choice," he growled, "My child will be born fully grown, it will be able to defend itself."

"But it will still be just a creature of clay," Carver said.

"No it won't," Fen'Harel grinned, "The soul and my magic will make it flesh, it will be a living person, with a will and a mind of its own. It will be able to choose its own destiny."

Carver was confused, this…this did not sound like the weapon that Loki wanted.

The Dread Wolf laughed.

_It was reading his thoughts again._

"Oh…my so-called followers will be very surprised," he admitted, "They expect my Avatar to be a weapon, a being that will lead them to glory. It may be that, but that will be my child's choice, not theirs. It will be my greatest jest ever. My child does not have to follow them; it will be able to decide its own destiny…in the end…all that matters is choice."

_It does not have to be a monster,_ the thought astounded Carver, _this…this Avatar…it…it could be anything it wanted._

"Will it be a warrior, a scholar, a king, a monster, even I do not know," the dread wolf smiled, "But that is the point of children mortal. I'm immortal, not omnipotent, I will be able to watch my child grow into the man or woman it chooses to be. I…I have waited for this for an eternity, to feel a Father's pride in his child…to feel,"

A single tear ran down the deity's face.

"To feel…to feel a Father's love, and to be loved by my child in return," he gave Carver a serious look, "Do I deserve anything less?"

Carver was speechless, he…he did not know what to say.

Could he deny this being's request?

His eyes turned hard.

"You ask much," he admitted.

"I know," the dread wolf confessed, "But this is your world we are talking about, things will grow quite boring if my child kills the mortal plane, please human…choose."

Carver tried to think, he could think of few who would be able to give this creature what it wanted.

Fen'Harel turned to the Avatar, his eyes amused.

"I think you need to see something mortal," he said.

The Dread Wolf gestured.

The farm house vanished. They were sitting in the middle of the graveyard on Sundermount.

All around them, people were dying.

Carver watched in horror, the Avatar struck down elves and wardens alike. He watched as it turned some into werewolves. He watched those werewolves turn on their allies.

He watched Nigel turn, he watched him attack Siobhan.

He spun in fury.

"STOP THIS!" he shouted at the Dread Wolf.

"I can't," the deity said, "Only you can, choose a soul."

Carver gasped, he…he could not ask anyone to assume this power, it was too dangerous.

The Avatar made its way towards Arika, she was wounded.

Carver knew what he had to do.

"ME," he shouted, "Take me, I shall be your Avatar, put my soul in that body."

Fen'Harel gave him a sad look.

"No," he said.

"Why not," Carver shouted, "You told me to choose, **that is my choice!"**

"You are unsuitable," the Dread Wolf replied, "You would make a fine son, mortal, one a Father could be proud of, but the magic in your blood is too weak, the Avatar is almost pure magical power, its strength would destroy you both. I will not have my child die stillborn."

Carver cursed loudly, he did not have time for this!

**Arika did not have time!**

The Avatar's eyes blazed.

Arika began to change.

Carver howled in fury.

"Choose," Fen'Harel repeated.

Carver cursed, it was the same old story, all those old insecurities rose up, all those old feelings of resentment, he was not good enough, he would never be as good as his siblings.

_He would never be as good as Garrett and Bethany!_

The world froze.

Arika stopped changing. The fires froze in mid-burn, the wardens and elves who still lived stood as still as statues.

Only Carver and Fen'Harel could move.

He turned to the deity.

The Dread Wolf was smiling.

The world fell away; once again, Carver found himself standing on that massive paw, Fen'Harel's massive head towered over him, its mouth red and full of razor teeth.

The Dread Wolf laughed with joy!

Fen'Harel's eyes were glowing white, his fur began to glow white…the whole world turned white.

Carver tried to shield his eyes.

Fen'Harel's voice shook his entire realm.

"**The choice…has been made!"** the wolf boomed triumphantly, "The soul has been summoned, come to me my Avatar, **come and be born!" **

Carver felt like he was falling, falling away from the world…from everything.

He heard the Dread Wolf say one final thing before he blacked out.

"**Arise…MY DAUGHTER!"**

Carver fell into unconsciousness with one final question on his mind…

_Daughter?_


	17. The Return

**Chapter 17: The Return**

Burning.

Arika lay on the ground, gasping for breath; her skin…her skin felt like it was on fire.

She…she felt like she was being burned from the inside out, a fire that filled her with mindless mind numbing rage.

Yet…she…she refused to give in…she would not!

The Avatar had only just turned its magic on her, and it felt like she had endured its attack for an eternity!

All she had to do was let go, she realized that. When she let go, the spell would destroy her mind and her body would turn, she would cease to be. She would simply be a hound in the service of the Avatar.

Part of her welcomed that peace…that release. She would…

NO!

She glared at the Avatar.

"Fuck you!" she spat.

She would not be some pawn of a magical monster! She had been too weak to resist Corypheus.

She would resist this…she needed to resist this.

She…

She gasped…

She felt her strength starting to fail.

There…there was only one thing left to do.

She reached for her boot; her spare dagger was sheathed there.

She knew what she needed to do.

She would not be this monster's pawn!

She…she would rather be dead!

She pulled her blade, she rested it against her throat, she felt warm blood trickled down her neck.

Even as she fought the pain, she glanced over at the green flames, the ones that had taken Carver.

She gave it a sad smile.

Farewell beloved, she thought, goodbye Carver…I…I love you.

She started to cut.

Something slammed into the Avatar; it knocked the clay figure off its feet, its clay head had been caved in on one side.

Arika felt something wash over her, it felt cool, it doused the flames, the pain faded, the wispy fur on her arms faded.

She looked up at her rescuer.

Alistair!

You shouldn't play with dark magic," he snarled raising his sword, "Someone might come along and cut off your head!"

The Avatar's green eyes widened.

Alistair sliced off its head, he kicked it away, it flew through the air with a wet squishing sound…

It landed somewhere in the bushes.

Arika sighed, she lay back, checking herself, she…she was still her. The Avatar had not been able to complete its spell.

She gave her fellow warden a grateful smile.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I will be taking my meat rare from now on I fear," she said dryly, "But…I think I will be fine."

The former Templar chuckled.

"At least I stopped the Avatar," he grinned, "I guess it wasn't…"

Alistair froze, his eyes widened in horror!

Arika looked up.

The Avatar's headless body stood before them. A serpent made of clay slithered out of the bushes; it merged with the Avatar's foot.

"Creepy," Alistair whispered.

A new head emerged from the clay, one it was formed, the two blazing green eyes appeared.

They narrowed in hate!

Arika held her dagger before her; she staggered to her feet ready to fight.

Alistair raised his shield; he prepared to smite the creature.

He never got the chance.

The green column of flame that consumed Carver blazed bright white; a loud whine rang out across the Free Marches.

Night turned to day.

The Avatar turned; it looked into the white flames curiously.

Come my daughter, Fen'Harel's voice purred through its very being, come…and be born!

The Avatar obeyed, it walked towards the white flames.

It was time to live…truly live.

It was curious what that meant.

IOI

Siobhan struggled weakly; blood loss was quickly draining her strength.

It was all she could do to hold back the gaping jaws; the beast that had been her lover was trying to rip out her throat.

She sobbed.

This could not be happening!

"Nigel no," she whimpered, "Please…love…please stop…your hurting me."

The beast growled hungrily.

She finally let go, she was ready to go.

She offered him her throat.

The blinding white light hit the Nigel wolf, the keening whine burned into the creature's ears.

The werewolves howled in pure agony!

They fell holding their ears, the whine grew higher and higher in pitch!

Some leapt off the cliff to their deaths; others bashed their heads against the stones, trying to make the horrible sound stop.

Siobhan summoned the last of her strength, she healed herself, the best she could in such a weakened state anyway.

She grasped a large flat stone.

She struck the Nigel wolf in the head.

It sank into unconsciousness.

The mage sat their sobbing; she wove a stasis spell around him.

She could hold him; she could get him back to Ansburg.

She would find a way to save him.

She would find a way to turn him back.

She saw the Avatar walking towards the white pillar of flame.

Her eyes narrowed in hate.

Her eyes glowed red.

That's it you monster, she thought, become mortal, become a person…because when you do…

A cruel smile split her lips.

When you do…you are mine!

IOI

Loki watched in disbelief.

He felt the magic change, he heard it calling…

It…it was calling the Avatar back!

Somehow…Carver had done it!

Fen'Harel had heard him, the dread wolf…

The dread wolf had let Carver choose a soul for the Avatar!

The Dalish's eyes widened with shock…

Then…with hate!

IT WASN"T FAIR! HE WAS TO BE THE ONE TO CHOOSE THE FORM OF THE AVATAR!

**IT WASN'T FAIR!**

The Avatar did not even look at him as it headed for the flames. The wardens and elves halted their retreat; they stood there…watching in amazement.

The White pillar changed, it released a lone figure from its embrace.

Carver was sat gently on the ground next to the Avatar.

It regarded him curiously for a moment, the young warden groaned as he began to regain consciousness.

Loki glared at the shemlen.

"What have you done?" he whispered, his eyes mad with fury.

The Avatar stepped into the flames.

The white flames licked at the Avatar. The clay figure began to burn, but it was not consumed…

It began to change.

The build became more slender; the chest swelled slightly forming a woman's bosom, long hair began to grow from its head, a nose appeared, then a mouth.

Then the ears…

Loki's eyes blazed with hate and horror.

The ears were rounded…they were the ears of a shemlen!

Carver had usurped his spell!

Carver had stolen the Avatar from the elvhen people!

The elvhen mage wailed to the heavens, begging Fen'Harel to not make it so.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" he shrieked…he shrieked until his throat turned raw.

"**WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"**

IOI

Siobhan came closer to the flames.

She was no longer crying, she was giggling…smiling.

Fire licked at her hair, long razor teeth began to fill her mouth, claws poked through her gloves.

Her body started to stretch… expand.

RAGE…WONDERFUL ALL CONSUMING RAGE!

The mage smiled wider.

Kill! Kill for Nigel! Avenge him!

**AVENGE!**

KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!

_**KILL!**_

Alistair saw her; he saw that she was starting to turn.

He smited her.

Siobhan howled in agony, the smite severed her connection to the rage demon that was consuming her.

The change stopped, he…he had prevented an abomination from being born.

She gasped, sitting up she glared at him.

Her eyes were wild!

"Bastard!" she spat, "It must die! I will kill it! I will…"

He struck Siobhan, her head snapped back.

She sank into unconsciousness.

Alistair looked at her, pity shining in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Arika was conflicted, to help her friend or her Carver?

Arin saved her having to make that choice, he drug Carver away from the pillar of flames.

Arika did what she could for the two people she cared the most for.

The light flashed brighter.

The Avatar screamed, truly screamed.

The change continued.

IOI

Loki crept up behind Arika, his eyes focused on Carver.

A long curved dagger in hand.

The shemlen bastard had ruined everything! He had claimed the Avatar for his own! Did he think to use its power to enslave the elves for all time, to make them his personal dogs?

Over Locien's dead body, no, he thought with a smirk…

Over Carver's.

He crawled closer, he would likely die when the reavers saw him, but he did not care.

All that was left was revenge.

Strong hands seized him, pulling him to his feet, he fought, but it was no use.

He stared into the angry eyes of who had grabbed him.

"That is enough Keeper," Solen snarled.

"Brother Solen," he grinned, "We…we can still fix this, the shem filth has corrupted the Avatar, but we can still save it, first we must take vengeance on this shem…then…"

The young elf had heard enough. Kelinda was dead, and so were so many others…

And all because Locien had wanted a weapon to destroy the shemlen with…

He…he had had enough!

He punched Locien in the face. The mage sank with barely a gurgle.

Solen stood over him glaring down at the manipulative mage.

For Kelly, he thought…for all of them.

Lin walked up behind him, she…she was smiling.

"Did that feel good?" she asked, "I've been wanting to do that for months. Tell me it felt good?"

Solen laughed his first real laugh in a while.

He grinned at her.

"You are strange sister," he chuckled.

The fire flashed again, the Avatar had stopped screaming, it was frozen in the flames, tears streaming down its face.

It drew its first real breath, its new heart beat for the first time.

From his realm, the dread wolf was pleased.

His child lived!

IOI

The Avatar stared into the flames; it could see the dread wolf staring back.

True thoughts filled its mind for the first time.

It…it had questions…wasn't that strange?

"Who are you?" it asked.

The dread wolf smiled.

"I am Fen'Harel, my child," the wolf said, "I am…your Father."

"Father," the Avatar was confused, "No…you…you are not my Father! My Father is…is…

The Avatar could not remember!

Tears ran down her face.

Fen'Harel gave her a sympathetic look.

"You have two Father's now," he informed her, "But we both love you, do not doubt that."

She sobbed.

"Father…I…I what is this…I don't like this!"

"It is called pain, daughter."

"Pain? I don't like pain, make it stop Father, please…make it stop!"

"Pain is a part of life child," he said apologetically, "But so is pleasure, I…I hope you feel both in the years to come."

Memories flooded the Avatar's mind, a chaotic jumble that made no sense. Images, names and feeling assaulted her newly formed consciousness.

Love for her family.

Fear of the Templars and the circle.

The joy of simply being free.

The sadness of being born different.

A question came to her mind, she had to ask it.

"Can I be normal, Father?"

"You can be whatever you wish," he replied, that is the joy and the pain of free will. You have vast powers my daughter. You get to decide how best to use them."

"Best," the Avatar repeated, another thought came to mind, "My power shall serve what is best in me, not which is most base."

Fen'Harel grinned.

"Oh what a surprise," he laughed, "What a jest you are on the world. They wanted a weapon, but I have given them something more…you and that human…that…Carver. You will change the world."

"Carver!" the Avatar cried with joy, she knew that name, "Is he like me now Father?"

"He is the one that has helped summon you," Fen'Harel informed her, "He will help guide you, help you find your place in this world. Now I must go, if you wish to speak again, just invoke my name, I will come."

"Father, don't leave me," she begged, "Please don't leave me alone!"

He smiled contently.

"You are not alone," he promised, "Others will stand by you, always remember my daughter, that you are loved. You are a part of me, and as long as that remains true, I will always be with you."

She sobbed; she remembered losing another Father, it…it had hurt.

He is still with me, she thought, they both are now.

"Farewell Father," she said, "I…I love you."

The Dread Wolf smiled.

"I know my darling," he growled, "I know."

IOI

The fire faded, it vanished with a clap of thunder.

The Avatar stood on unsteady feet, she…she was surrounded by chaos on all sides.

Sweet Maker, she thought, had the darkspawn done all this?

Wait…what were darkspawn?

What was the Maker?

She…she was so confused, her thoughts all jumbled.

She…she tried to remember who she was.

It…it was all a blank.

A cold rain began to fall; she shivered, feeling cold for the first time.

She found herself surrounded, elves, humans, a dwarf, even some horned creature she did not recognize.

Where was she? Was this the void?

Had she been damned?

Was this the void?

Was…was she dead?

The rain washed the clay dust off her bare skin; she was naked, shivering in the rain.

She saw two elves watching her; one was badly scarred, but looked enough like the other that they could be twins.

"Look brother," one said, "Naked girl."

"Naked shem girl," the other added.

The Avatar blushed; she tried to cover herself up.

A young man groaned; a blonde woman with foxlike features helped him to his feet. He…he looked so familiar. He had black hair and blue eyes, his shoulders were broad. She…she did not recognize the armor, but she knew the face.

A name sprang to her mind.

"Ca-Carver?" she said through chattering teeth.

He looked into her eyes, his own wide with shock.

"It…it cannot be?" he gasped.

She took a step towards him, her world spun; her skin felt like it was on fire.

She reached out for him.

"Carver," she whimpered, "help me, what….what is happening…where am I? Where is Mother? Where is Garrett?"

He gave her a sad look.

"That is a long story," he whispered, "But…I will tell you…in time."

"I…I can't…"

The Avatar's eyes rolled back into her head, she started to fall forward.

Carver caught her; he wrapped her in his arms.

"A cloak, hurry," he called out.

She felt something wrap around her, she snuggled into it trying to be warm and dry.

"Carver," the blond woman said, her eyes cold and suspicious, "Who…who is this girl?'

"She is not our enemy," he said sadly, "She…she is my…"

"Carver," the Avatar whispered, "Don't leave me…please… stay with me…brother."

He held her tighter, thanking Fen'Harel, the Maker and whatever deity may have watched over them tonight.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, "I…I promise Bethany, I…I won't leave you alone."

In that moment…she smiled.

The Avatar of Fen'Harel, also known as Bethany Hawke smiled.

She was not alone.

She…she was back.


	18. Dawn of a New Day

**Chapter 18: Dawn of a New Day**

The wardens left Sundermount before first light. They gathered up their dead, and did a quick check to make sure no werewolves had escaped the battle, once the bodies had been burned, they had started out. Stroud thought it wise that they do their best to avoid any of the Dalish hunters.

The elves would have many questions, questions that Stroud was uncomfortable answering at this time.

He journeyed alone to speak with their leader in the Dalish Camp.

Keeper Marethari seemed to believe them when he informed the danger had passed.

Of course…she seemed apprehensive about his news.

Stroud suspected that she knew that the Avatar had survived their fight with it. He suspected that she knew that the wardens were transporting it…her…back to Ansburg with them.

He found himself hoping that the Dalish did not make a big deal over this. The Avatar had been stopped, and the world was safe.

He hoped that that would be enough for the Dalish, at least for now.

The senior warden suspected that they would not be pleased that the Avatar had survived the battle.

No… he did not think that they would be pleases at all.

…Despite their victory.

The battle was over, they had won, but… it had been costly.

Almost too costly.

IOI

Nug's scouting group had been all but wiped out; only the dwarf and Grey remained. The Commander would not like that, Stroud realized, he was still not sure how he would justify their actions to Cesare yet.

They would turn over Locien to his judgment; with luck the Commander would be satisfied with the elf's execution.

If he decided that others needed to be blamed for this, Stroud intended to take full responsibility.

Locien had been a member of his group, if something was going on, as the senior warden, he should have caught it.

Stroud would do what he could to keep his people safe from any retribution from the Commander that was his job after all.

He had been placed in charge…

It was his responsibility if any of his people got out of line.

It was something he took quite seriously.

Of the Children of Fen'Harel, there were few survivors remaining, of the fifty that had followed Loki into that graveyard, only fourteen walked out, including Lin's brother Solen. The young elf had taken command of the others. After what the Avatar had done, the one that Loki had insisted that they summon, that he said would free there people, few of the elves seemed interested in following him anymore.

Stroud smiled grimly.

Locien would not enjoy his return to Ansburg.

Hi own people had been fortunate, they had suffered only two major casualties. The first having been Nigel, the former Templar had been twisted by the Avatar's powers, turned into a werewolf. They were bringing him back to Ansburg, to see if anything could be done with him, to study a way that he might be cured.

Stroud prayed that the mages in Ansburg would be able to help his old friend.

Sadly, the second loss was tied closely to the first.

Siobhan…the poor mage it seemed…was lost to them.

Alistair had stopped her from becoming an Abomination, but he had not saved her mind, Nigel's attack on her had left her cold and vengeful.

She glared at one of the two carts they had commandeered on the old Kirkwall road. The first carried her, Locien, and the Nigel wolf. Both the elf mage and the werewolf were being held in stasis. Siobhan was merely bound, her hands and feet tied tightly by Nug.

Her hard teary-eyed gaze never left the second cart; this one carried the sleeping Avatar.

Stroud shook his head.

If looks could burn, that Bethany girl would be a pile of ash right now.

Siobhan turned to him, her eyes hate-filled and cruel.

"Kill it Stroud," she hissed, "Or better yet, let me do it, if you don't have the balls to do what is necessary, then I shall."

Stroud did not like her tone, he did not take such talk from wardens under his command, and it was only because of her pain and loss that he allowed it this time.

He gave her a sympathetic look.

"I will not kill Carver's sister," he informed the mage, "For the moment, she is no threat to anyone. I will not kill someone without reason. I have had enough of that the last few days."

Siobhan sighed, it was clear to her that the senior warden did not understand.

She tried to explain it to him.

"It is still a monster," she said grimly, "Do not be fooled by whatever magical camouflage that it is using. Magic cannot bring back the dead Stroud, not intact anyway," she sighed heavily, "You are being lied to, Carver is being lied to…that…that thing is not his sister. It is a wolf in sheep's clothing; it will turn on you the first chance it gets."

The senior warden shook his head.

"I leave that to the commander to decide."

Hate flashed in her eyes.

"UNTIE ME," she spat, "Untie me or I will devour your souls! I…"

She gasped; Alistair drew the mana from her again. She sank back into the cart.

She shot the former Templar an angry look.

"You will pay for that Alistair," she growled, "You, Stroud, Carver, anyone that keeps me from hurting the one that hurt my Nigel," she fell silent then glaring down at her bonds.

Stroud sighed

Tears ran down Siobhan's cheeks, she looked at the werewolf who had once been her lover.

"You will pay," she whispered.

"You will **all **pay."

IOI

Arika listened with great sorrow in heart. Siobhan had been her best friend, to hear her speak like this.

She glared at the wagon containing the Avatar, the thing that now looked like Carver's long dead sister.

This had all be Locien's fault, and his Avatars. She could not believe that Carver had chosen the form of his sister for the monster to wear.

It would make it much more difficult when the time came to destroy it.

If only Carver had realized that?

She gave her lover an angry glance.

Why had he made things more difficult than they already were?

Why?

IOI

Carver stayed close to the cart carrying Bethany.

Despite all that they had seen the last few days, all that they had sacrificed…he…he could not help but feel…good…giddy even.

He had accomplished a miracle, through his choice and the will of the dread wolf.

His twin sister had been returned to him.

That alone made this journey worth it.

_Bethany was back. Bethany was __**alive.**_

It was the most amazing of things.

Alistair came up beside him; the former Templar glanced down at the sleeping mage. He…he found it hard to believe that this was the avatar, that this girl had been the creature that had nearly destroyed them all.

Carver seemed happy, not that Alistair could blame him.

He gave his friend a sad smile.

"I think you are going to be sleeping on the floor when we reach Ansburg," he said blandly.

"What," Carver said snapping out of his revelry, "why would you say that?"

"Because your lady is glaring daggers at you," Alistair said motioning to where Arika rode behind them, "Trust me, I've been married long enough to recognize when a woman is angry at her man."

Carver risked a glance over his shoulder. Arika was indeed glaring at him.

He quickly looked away.

He…he did not understand.

He had just saved the world hadn't he? Had he not stopped the Avatar from destroying them all? Had he not saved Arika from being turned into a monster?

He had saved the whole sodding world!

How could she be pissed at him, he did not understand.

He looked at his fellow warden.

"I take it your Lyna has given you those looks before?" he said.

"More than once," Alistair chuckled, "My Lyna can be…stubborn, if she thinks you are in the wrong, only the strongest evidence will convince her otherwise. I have learned to just let her vent. I may have to spend some time sleeping on the floor of our room, but it is useful to clear the air."

Carver shook his head.

Was that what marriage was like?

He was surprised to find that he did not care, let Arika be angry with him. At least she was still here to be angry with him. If he had lost her….if she had been killed or turned into one of those beasts.

He doubted he would have ever been able to forgive himself.

Even Bethany's return would have been tarnished.

He felt sorry for Siobhan and for Nigel. He held out hope that they could find a mage who would be able to reverse what the Avatar had done to him. Perhaps even Bethany might know; she was the Avatar now after all.

He would have to explain a few things to her, hard things…painful things.

That was a conversation he was not looking forward too, how could he explain everything that had happened in the last four years to her? How could he tell her about the deep roads, about Garrett…?

How could he tell her about Mother?

He sighed heavily.

She would have to be told of course, and…once it was safe…he would have to write Garrett as well.

He could not do that yet he realized, Bethany had only just returned, he was grateful she was back…but…

They needed to make sure it was her, to make sure that the dread wolf had not tricked them all.

He hated to think that Siobhan maybe right about his sister. What if this was all a trick, what if the Avatar, the monster was hiding out inside Bethany's body?

What if it was waiting to pounce?

They would need to test her, make sure it was really her. He hated to think about doing that to poor Bethany, she had suffered enough in her life, but they could not risk the Avatar playing them all for fools.

It was too powerful for that, if this was all a trick, they would have to deal with it…with her.

The thought of all this gave him a headache.

He would not allow his sisters form and memory to be profaned in that way.

He did not want to admit it, but he needed to accept the truth.

If his sister was back, that was great…if she was not…

He frowned.

Then as a warden…he must do what he must.

IOI

Arin rode out front, defending their little caravan from any attack, he hated to admit it, but they were in no shape to defend themselves if attacked out here. So many injured, and with the mages either caged or crazed, no healing was to be had.

_I fought in a tremendous battle he thought, one for the very safety of the world, and still I draw breath, still I walk beneath the shadows of the dragon's wings._

A small smile split his lips.

Perhaps the dragons were trying to tell him something, perhaps the tale of Arin, Son of Arik and Elosia, was not done yet.

Perhaps he had come here for a reason after all, beyond dying.

He found his eyes drawn more and more to the cart, the one carrying the Avatar…carrying Carver's sister.

The mage slept peacefully.

She had not woken since her…what was the best word…resurrection, birth, he was no mage, he did not pretend to understand magic. The Avatar had been beyond anything he had ever faced, it had bested him, swatted him aside like an ant…

And now…it had been made mortal…it ha had been made a woman…

He remembered her standing there, even lost in the confusion of her return, he could still see the power in her every step…her nobility.

The Avatar…this…this Bethany…she was strong…and she was beautiful!

A…a beautiful young woman, a woman who was more beautiful than the snow swept mountains of his home, he…he was intrigued.

He knew he should not be having these thoughts, but he could not help it. This was not love, he recognized that, but…he was interested.

Such strength in a lowland woman, in any woman was unheard of, the Avatar…it…she could have bested them all had Carver not intervened.

_Such a woman would be prized among the reaver clans, the object of desire to any man…_

Who did not desire a strong woman? Strong women produced fine sons and daughters.

He wanted to speak with her; he would speak with her when she had awoken. He wished to see if her mind was as quick as she was strong.

_Would she be interested in one such as him, or would she seem him as a barbarian, or some mundane gnat beneath her notice._

It would be possible, he thought glumly; perhaps she would see him as unworthy of her grandeur.

Never the less, he would try, fortune favored the bold, he had heard that saying once, it was from the lowlands.

_One of the first wise things he had heard from them._

Bethany stirred where she lay, Carver approached her, he heard them talking quietly to one another, then the mage lay back down and fell back sleep.

Arin felt his confidence bolstered.

Arika had made an interesting suggestion before all this had happened; she suggested that he start his search for a mate here in the lowlands build a life for himself here.

He had thought that impossible at the time, but now…now…

The young reaver smiled.

It was time, he realized, to reconsider his future here.

Perhaps, with the dragon's good fortune, he was not done after all.

Perhaps, a future…a new life…had dropped into his lap.

All he had to do was reach out and claim it, to see if it was for him.

He welcomed that challenge.

It would be intriguing to find out.


	19. Command Decisions

**Chapter 19: Command Decisions**

The wardens returned to Ansburg.

The Fortress was in an uproar, news of the Qunari attack in Kirkwall had reached the Commander's ears. Cesare had almost immediately begun mobilizing all of the wardens in the city, preparing for a possible Qunari attack.

The ox-men did not respect warden neutrality; they would see Ansburg as simply another military objective to be conquered.

Cesare would not let that happen, he had given up too much in his life to let the Qunari destroy all that he had worked for.

Stroud and Nug were summoned to his office immediately upon their arrival, Cesare had assumed them all killed, he assumed that Kirkwall had fallen and the Qunari were already branching out.

The joint report from the two senior wardens surprised him, it seemed while the Qunari were launching their invasion of Kirkwall, the elves living here had been planning their own revolution.

The Commander demanded to hear everything. Blainswood, Kirkwall, what happened on Sundermount everything.

He listened carefully, as the two men informed him of all that happened…his manner changed.

He turned more thoughtful, relaxed, intrigued even by the little adventure that Stroud and the others had been dragged into.

By the time they were finished, Commander Cesare was smiling.

"Let me get this straight my friends," he purred, "This elvish weapon…this Avatar…it is here, now, in Ansburg?"

"Yes Commander," Stroud said.

"But it is no longer an it, ser," Nug added, "It is a she; Warden Carver bonded the Avatar with the soul of his late sister. Her name was…is Bethany."

"Bethany... interesting," Cesare mused.

"She was an apostate, Commander," Stroud added, "She died when his family was fleeing the Blight. Apparently, Carver interrupted the summoning spell warden Locien was using, as a result he was able to choose which soul was bonded to the Avatar…he chose his sister."

Cesare nodded, he followed so far.

"And this Avatar creature, It…it defeated two of our best scouting groups?"

"Its magic is impressive Commander," Stroud stated, "It turned several of our number into werewolves, that seemed to be its primary form of attack; it could apparently control the beasts."

"Magnificent," Cesare whispered.

"Most of the elven cultists that aided in the Avatar's summoning were killed, but the few survivors have been brought back to Ansburg, along with Warden Locien, he apparently masterminded this whole scheme."

"We also found evidence that links Locien to the tainting of Blainswood," Nug added, "He needed souls to usher this Avatar into our world. He used us, he is responsible for the deaths of every man, woman, and child in Blainswood."

Cesare nodded.

"That is very disturbing," he agreed, "I will have to deal with the elf directly."

"We thought you might ser," Stroud smiled, "He has been taken down to the cells in the dungeons. We have also brought back a live werewolf, it was one of my scouting group, Nigel, we hoped that the mages here in Ansburg might help him."

"I see," Cesare responded, "What of the Avatar itself, pardon, herself, is she…is she well?"

Stroud paused, something in the Commander's question bothered him, or perhaps it was just the hungry look in the former crow's eye.

He did not like where this line of questioning was going.

"Mistress Bethany has been taken to the medical wing," Stroud informed him, "She is extremely weak, feverish as well."

"Will she live?" the Commander asked, he almost sounded worried.

"I have not had a chance to speak with the healers yet Commander," Stroud said.

Cesare ordered one of his guards to head down to medical immediately; he wanted an update on the girl's condition.

The guard left quickly.

He looked again at Stroud.

"What is Siobhan's take on this girl?"

Stroud shifted uncomfortably, he did not wish to say anything, but the Commander would find out soon enough.

He informed Cesare of Siobhan's…breakdown. If Alistair had not acted as quickly as he had, the girl would have become an abomination.

"Then she is lost to us as well," the Commander snorted, "Unfortunate."

He rose from his desk; he stood before the large glass window, the one overlooking the courtyard, his hands crossed behind his back.

His face was thoughtful.

A knock on the door drew his attention, an elven courier had arrived.

News had arrived from Kirkwall.

He read the letter the elf handed him, once he had finished the Commander was smiling.

He actually laughed.

"Warden Carver's family name is Hawke is it not?" he asked Stroud, "He has a brother does he not?"

"Yes ser."

The Commander chuckled.

"It seems our young friend's family is blessed with good fortune," Cesare said, "The Qunari have been defeated in Kirkwall. An apostate mage named Garrett Hawke has killed the Qunari Arishok in single combat. The ox-men are fleeing the city."

Stroud was surprised, but he realized that he should not have been.

He knew how good Carver was, it was not surprising that the elder sibling was equally skilled.

"The nobles have declared this Garrett Hawke the new Champion of Kirkwall," he said chuckling, "The Chantry has even granted him free mage status. I'm sure that Templar cow Stannard is spitting flames right now."

Stroud made mental note to tell Carver about this, he would likely be pleased to hear of his brother's success.

Cesare was ecstatic.

"This is a great day for the Grey Wardens my friends," he grinned, "The Qunari have been neutralized in Kirkwall; Ansburg should be safe from their foul kind. Plus, this mage's rise to power could not come at a better time; the Templars gaze will now be focused entirely on this Garrett Hawke, giving us room to maneuver."

Stroud did not dispute the Commander, he understood the Commander's concern about the Qunari, they were vicious invaders. The mages and the Templar were not their concern however.

Wardens were neutral, period.

"And now…now," Cesare's eyes were alight with avarice, "You have brought me a mighty elvish weapon, and the mage who created it," the Commander sank back into his chair; satisfied sigh emerged from his lips.

"You have both done well; the gifts you have brought me will go a long way towards securing our future here in the Marches."

Stroud was not sure how best to take that, he had not brought the Avatar here to please Cesare; he had brought her here because she was powerful and dangerous.

Stroud had figured that the girl would be sent to Weisshaupt, likely accompanied by her brother and Arika. The warden mages in the Anderfels had access to much lore from the days of ancient Tevinter.

If anyone could make sense about what Bethany Hawke was now, it was likely them.

Nug glanced at him, the look in the dwarf's eye told a story.

He did not like this anymore that Stroud did.

"What about Locien, ser," Nug asked, "He is guilty of murder, treason, and a host of other crimes."

"The elf will get what is coming to him Kilir, I promise you that," Cesare grinned, "In the meantime, please send word to carver, I wish to speak with him. You are both dismissed"

The two senior wardens bowed, and turned to leave.

They headed out into the hall saying nothing until they were out of earshot of the Commander's guards.

"You gonna warn lover boy before he walks into the lion's den?" Nug asked Stroud.

"No," Stroud replied, "His honest responses will please Cesare more than anything he might have planned to say."

The dwarf nodded.

Sounded smart, he supposed.

"This isn't good…is it boss?" Nug asked.

The senior warden frowned.

"No my friend," he agreed," It is most definitely…not good."

IOI

An hour later, Carver stood before the Commander's office, he cursed himself for not getting himself cleaned up before this meeting.

He…he had not wanted to leave Bethany's side, if she woke up and he was not there.

He shook his head.

The mages here in Ansburg did not know what to make of Bethany. They poked and prodded her but could find nothing wrong. She was simply weak, tired, and a little feverish perhaps, but that was likely from shock.

Shock is not very surprising is it, one of the mages had quipped, after all. It was not every day that someone comes back from the land of the dead.

Carver glared at him.

That was not funny.

They also used words that Carver did not like to describe his sister; words that might make people overreact:

Witch.

Sorceress.

And last but not least…the worst word of all.

Demigod.

Carver did not like that one at all, nor the way the mages had reacted when it had been used.

He remembered one of the things that Fen'Harel had said how blood mages sacrificed elven demigods for their blood.

He would not let that happen, anyone who even looked at Bethany wrong would get the business end of his blade.

It is not like she is defenseless, he thought, she is likely more powerful than Garrett now.

He could not help it though, he was her brother, it was his job to protect her.

A hint of a smile played across his lips.

Bethany was back…his twin sister had been given back to him.

There were some differences now of course. He had watched as the mages examined her. He noticed several things that he had never seen before.

The first was her markings. Bethany now had an elvhen tattoo on her lower back. He had seen it when the mages were checking for any wounds she might have sustained. It took Carver a moment to recognize the symbol.

It was the same swirling pattern that Locien had emblazoned on his forehead. He assumed that it had something to do with the Dread Wolf, which made sense of course.

Fen'Harel considered Bethany his daughter now; of course he would mark her as such.

The second change was her eyes.

Bethany, his Bethany, had been born with their Father's eyes. Both she and Garrett both had been born with Malcolm Hawke's brown eyes.

This Bethany's eyes were green…a bright mint green. Just like Fen'Harel's when he had been in his elvhen form.

_She still had her Father's eyes,_ he thought_, just not our father._

Carver shifted uncomfortably.

Fen'Harel had said nothing of this, he had said that he was putting Bethany's soul in the Avatar, but it was clear that there had been some changes.

Carver feared what other changes there might be, and what effect those changes might have on his sister's mind.

He…he did not really want to think about that.

He knocked on the Commander's door.

Cesare bid him to enter.

Mustering his courage, he did as he was ordered.

He stepped into the lion's den.

IOI

"The Maker favors your family young one."

Carver stiffened, he…he did not know what the Commander meant.

The Hawkes had always been many things…but favored by the Maker was not one of them.

The former Crow Prince smiled.

"It seems that you are destined for greatness. You have been a warden less than three years and you have already impressed many, slayer of broodmothers they call you."

Carver nodded; personally he had never considered it that impressive.

"And now, you have saved the world apparently, defeated Locien and this Avatar creature. Not bad who began his life with us as a charity case," Cesare smiled, "I suspect that one day lad, your name will be inscribed in the annals of our history, Carver of the Grey Wardens, one of the most influential wardens of the Dragon Age.

His back straightened, his chest puffed with pride.

Part of him ate up the Commander's praise, he had always wanted people to see his value, and here…now…the Commander seemed to be doing just that.

Recognition…at last…it was his!

Another part of him recognized this for what it was; the Commander was stroking his ego for some reason. He wanted something from him, he needed to be careful.

Experience brings maturity son, Malcolm Hawke had always taught him.

Apparently it brought paranoia as well, at least when dealing with someone like Commander Cesare anyway.

"I did what I had to Commander," Carver replied, he had not intended to defeat anything, just prevent the Avatar from going wild and killing everything in its path.

That wasn't him trying to be a hero that was him doing his duty.

Never the less you have done well," The Commander smiled, "You have proven your strength and skill."

"Thank you Commander," he answered

"Then there is the rest of your family," the Commander continued, "Your brother…Garrett is it…has been named Champion of Kirkwall.

Wonderful Carver thought, he is never going to let me live that down.

"And now…your sister, reborn through your actions," Cesare smiled widened, "If that is not being touched by the Maker lad, I do not know what is."

"Ser," Carver said shyly, "I…I was wondering what you intend to do with her. As a mage, some would say she needs to be taken to the circle."

"You do not have to worry about that my friend," Cesare responded, "Your sister; she is far too valuable to turn over to the Templars. She will be protected; you have my word on that."

"Thank you, ser," he said gratefully.

"I understand the value of family young Hawke, but if I might be so bold, I would like to know a few things about your sister."

"There is not much to say ser," Carver responded, "Bethany is an apostate mage; she was raised in a farm outside the village of Lothering, just as I was."

"Who trained her in magic?" the Commander asked.

"My Father," he answered, "Our Father had spent his youth in the Circle, but he escaped at eighteen."

"What kind of girl is she?" he asked, "Did she bully others with her powers, or was she more careful?"

"My sister was never a bully," he said quietly, trying to hold his temper, "most of the time she just tried to be normal. I…I don't think she liked her magic much, but she had no choice. She was born a mage, and nothing could change that. She worried about being sent to the circle, but Garrett and I did our best to keep her safe."

Cesare smiled.

"A truly wise person does not covet power," he said sagely, "but they accept it when it comes their way, and they know enough to trust their superiors to let them know when to use it wisely."

Carver did not entirely agree with the last part, but he nodded just the same.

Cesare was going to let Bethany stay after all.

They spent the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening talking about her, The Commander wanted to know best how to talk to Bethany when she awoke.

His concern surprised Carver, after that business in Blainswood he did not think that Cesare had any sense of mercy.

It pleased him to be wrong.

Plus it seemed that the Commander had one more final surprise for him.

He had decided to promote Carver to lieutenant of their scouting group; he would be second only to Stroud. Nigel had held the post before him, but it was clear that that was no longer possible.

Carver intended to be a good successor to his friend. Nigel had been a good teacher and a great warden.

He deserved better than what he had gotten.

By the time he had left for the evening, they had spent most of the evening talking. He started to wonder if they had been wrong about the Commander, he could be ruthless sure, but perhaps there was a good man inside him somewhere.

For Bethany's sake, he certainly hoped so.

A knock sounded at the door.

The Commander bade them enter.

There was word from the medical wing.

Bethany was awake, and she wanted to speak to Carver.

The Commander dismissed him. Carver was grateful, he found himself wondering how Bethany was feeling.

He hoped that she was well.

IOI

Cesare watched the boy go, a hungry smile on his lips.

It pleased him that he could still play the country bumpkins.

He needed Carver…for the moment, at least until he got a little leverage on the girl.

Then…he would bind her powers to the wardens forever…

He would bind her to him forever.

He smiled pleasantly as he stared out the window.

It truly was such a beautiful world.

And now…that he had the Avatar, he had the strength to make it his oyster.

The world stood open before him.

He could not wait to try and claim it.


	20. Love Matters

**Chapter 20: Love Matters**

Carver headed straight for the medical wing, grateful to be out of the Commander's office. He was eager to speak with Bethany now that she was fully awake. He…he owed it to Mother's memory to make sure that she was all right that she was **still** her.

He was both looking forward to, and dreading this meeting. He feared what would happen if it turned out that she was not truly his sister anymore, if she was just another joke that the dread wolf had decided to play on the world.

He prayed to the Maker that that would not be the case; he could not lose his sister again, not after seemingly getting her back,

Such a loss would hurt more than he cared to admit.

The healers had all but left by the time he had arrived, of course he would not be meeting with his sister alone. Four of the Commander's personal guard stood watch outside of the room.

They nodded to him as he passed by, it was clear that the Commander took Bethany's safety very seriously.

_He could not be sure if that was a good or a bad thing._

He tried not to focus on it, for Bethany's sake, now…the time had come.

It was time to see his sister again…

And tell her what had transpired in the years since she had been gone.

This would not be easy for her to hear, or for him to tell her, but it had to be done.

She needed to know what had happened.

She deserved to know.

IOI

Bethany sat on a cot near the back of the medical wing. He was pleased to see that someone had finally decided to find her some clothes, a set of blue silk mage's robes. She seemed uncomfortable in them, but he understood why that was.

_Perhaps she feared that the wardens would send her to the circle?_

He needed to assure her that that was simply not the case.

She looked up at him as he entered, regarding him with her new green eyes.

A smile came to her face, lighting up the room.

He returned it the best he could.

"Greetings sister," he said warmly, "I'm glad to see you're…"

She rose from the cot and pulled him into a massive bear hug.

He tensed at first; his concern about her robbed him of much of the joy he would normally feel in this situation.

He cursed himself for that.

"Carver," she whimpered, he…he feared that she was crying, "Oh Carver…brother…when…when I awoke and you were not here, I was so worried. I was afraid something bad had happened to you."

He gave her a sad smile; trust Bethany to worry about him before herself.

This bolstered his confidence a bit; so far…she acted, talked, and sounded exactly like his sister.

He was grateful for that.

He had no desire to see her harmed…again.

She released him as quickly as she had embraced him, she…she took a step back, a suspicious look on her face.

He tried to advance, but she backed away from him.

He felt his concern grow, what was this now?

"Is there something wrong sister?"

"No…I…I don't know," her fingers rose they traced his face, his apprehension seemed to grow.

"Carver," she said softly, "What has happened?"

"Is there something wrong?" he repeated.

A worried frown crossed her features.

"You…you look different," she answered, "You seem older, and your eyes…I…I don't know," She fidgeted nervously, "That scar on your chin, I…I don't remember seeing it when you came home three days ago."

He knew which scar she was talking about, he had gotten it in Kirkwall, that bastard Hayder, the one who had been after Isabela, he had cut him during that fight, Garrett had healed the wound, but…"

As for the older thing, there was nothing he could do about that, being in the wardens, the things he had seen and had to do, the things that still weighed on his conscience, it aged you. Plus…four years had passed, he was twenty-two now, she still looked eighteen or nineteen, not much difference in the scheme of things, but his sister had always been observant, she had to be. She…

_Wait…what did she say?_

"Bethany," he began, "What year is this?"

"Carver, do not be ridiculous."

"I'm serious sister," he said patiently, "What year is this?"

"The Year of our Maker 9:30 Dragon," she replied.

He sighed, Maker he was afraid of something like this.

"What is the last thing you remember, before you found yourself on Sundermount?"

"Sundermount?" the question confused her, "Where is this Sundermount, we are still in Ferelden, yes?"

"We're in the Free Marches now sister," he informed her.

"The…the Free Marches, how in Andraste's name did we get here? The last thing I remember, we were fleeing Lothering. We…we had just met that Templar and his soldier wife. I…I remember…I…remember a sound like thunder, the ground shook, and…and then…"

Bethany pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Maker save me, I…I can't remember what happened next. The darkspawn caught up with us I think. I remember pushing Mother behind me then…then… nothing."

Carver's eyes turned pained. She could remember nothing more because that was right before she had died, and ogre had attacked them, Bethany had pushed Mother behind her and tried to deal with the creature.

The foul thing had crushed her, picked her up and slammed her against the ground in a fit of rage.

She had been dead before she had ever realized what had happened.

"Brother, what is it?"

He heard her question, but was lost in the pain of that memory.

_Maker, how will I explain this to her? How could __**anyone **__explain this to her?_

"Brother, what has happened," she begged, her lip was beginning to quiver, "Brother please, you are scaring me."

I don't want to do this, he thought, but…it was better that she hear it from him then from Cesare or one of the mages here.

He mustered his courage the best he could.

_Here we go._

"Sister," he began, "We are currently in the Grey Warden base in Ansburg, in the Free Marches."

"The…the Free Marches, how…how did we get here? Did we escape the Blight then? Did we make it to Gwaren? Was I hurt badly, is that why I don't remember anything?"

"Sister please," he begged, he could not handle questions right now; he simply needed to get this out before he lost his nerve.

"The Blight is over sister, it ended almost four years ago now, this is the Year of our Maker 9:34 Dragon."

She looked shocked.

"Brother, this is not funny," she said hotly, "I…it can't be almost four years, I remember you collapsing on our doorstep three days ago. If this is a jest it is in very poor taste."

"It is no jest," he said sadly, "You have been gone almost four years now sister, the…the darkspawn took you from us."

"Took me," her eyes narrowed, "Brother…please…stop this, it…it is not funny! Did Garrett put you up to this? If he did, it…it is very cruel. You have no right to make fun of me like this!"

She will never believe you, a voice in the back of his head warned, she likely will not believe anything anyone says about this.

Carver realized the truth in that.

He…he would have to show her.

"Come with me Bethany," he said holding out his hand.

"No," she snapped angrily, "Where is Garrett and Mother…I wish to see them."

"Sister…please," he said lightly touching her hand.

"Please…trust me."

She acted like she was not going to do it for a moment, but then, the anger faded, he had never steered her wrong their entire lives….

She doubted greatly, that he would start now.

He led her to a small mirror over a water basin, he motioned her forward.

"Look at yourself sister," he said, "And tell me what you see, are you different than you remember."

"Different how?" she asked, "Carver…I don't…"

"Look sister," he repeated, "Please look…for me."

She did as he asked.

IOI

Bethany shook her head, sweet Maker, this was ridiculous! Garrett had to be behind this, he was always teasing her; the only time he took anything seriously was during her magic lessons, one time he…

She sighed; if this would bring this poor charade to a close she would do it, happily.

She looked into the mirror. She saw herself. She saw Carver, looking more weary than she ever had in the past. She was dressed in the mage robes those healers had given her and…and…

She froze.

I…what…what is this?

She blinked several times, nothing happened. She pinched her arm, thinking that she might be dreaming, thinking that this might be the fade.

Nothing happened.

She slipped away from her brother, her fingers rose, they were shaking now, she touched the reflection in the mirror, leaving a smudge, but that did not matter right now.

Nothing mattered right now.

She stared into her own face, and though it was familiar, it was subtly different as well.

"B-brother," she stammered, "I…I…what is wrong with my eyes? They…they are not the right color anymore. D-did Garrett do this? Is it some kind of trick?"

He gave her a sad look.

"There is nothing wrong with your eyes sister," he replied, "You…you simply have your father's eyes now that is all."

She whirled around.

"I have always had our Father's eyes," she said hotly, "They…they are brown not green! Enough brother, tell me what is going on?"

He fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I said **your** Father Sister, not ours," he said, "I'm…I'm sorry I have to tell you this but things have changed. Please sit down, I…I will do my best to explain everything, there…there is a lot to tell."

She almost declined, tried to leave, to go out and find Garrett and Mother, but where they might be she did not know.

Carver likely did, so she…she would have to obey his wishes.

She went back to the cot she had been sitting on when he had first arrived. He sat down across from her, taking her small hands in his large ones.

He…he began his tale…their family's tale, beginning with that cold plain outside of Lothering.

_Beginning with the day she had been taken from them, in a moment of darkspawn fury._

In the final moments of her life…

The day her first life had ended

He prayed to the Maker she was strong enough to hear it.

IOI

Carver returned to his room, the one he shared with Arika.

His heart felt like a lead weight, his sister's angry cries filled his thoughts. The cries she shouted at him. The cries she shouted before she had fallen sobbing into his arms, before she had cried herself to sleep. Once she was asleep, the guards had removed him, promising him that he could come back in the morning.

Cries that would haunt him for the rest of his life:

**You are lying!**

**You are cruel Brother, very cruel!**

**It is impossible, magic cannot bring back the dead, Father taught me that above all else!**

**I…I am not some…some… Avatar…some magical creature!**

**I'm **_**human!**_

**I'm Malcolm and Leandra Hawke's daughter!**

**You must be lying!**

**It's not true!**

**Please…Brother…please…make it all **_**not**_** true!**

Carver shuddered, he…he had not wanted to tell her all those things, but…but what else could he do?

Better she hear it from him and not from Commander Cesare.

He had held her, did his best to be there for her, he…he had not been able to save her in Lothering.

He would be damned if he failed to save her now.

The room was dark when he got back; he was surprised that Arika had not returned yet. He took the time to bathe and get cleaned up, wash off all the blood and battle from his skin.

_Bethany…his poor sister, what in Andraste's name was he going to do?_

He went to the small desk in the corner, he…he considered writing a letter to Garrett, explaining what had happened on Sundermount.

No, you can't say something like that in a letter, his conscience warned, If Cesare was telling the truth, the Templars know that Garrett is a mage now. What if they start intercepting his mail?

_If the Templars knew about Bethany…?_

They would likely have the entire Templar war machine descend upon Ansburg, eager to see the death of the Avatar.

They would not even try to take Bethany to the circle. They would kill her **outright!**

He could not let that happen.

He crumpled up the letter and tossed it in the wastebasket.

He sat back with an irritated sigh.

The sound of the key in the lock drew his attention.

Arika had finally returned.

She closed the door quietly, before turning to him.

"Hello love," he murmured, "How are…"

She cuffed him across the back of the head…hard.

"Ow," he cried out, "What was that for?"

Her blue eyes were hard as she glared at him.

"What were you thinking!" she spat.

"That I was greeting the woman I love," he said dryly, rubbing the back of his head, "Was I wrong?"

'Not now," she growled, "On Sundermount, how could you just leap into that portal! What were you thinking?"

"Actually, I tripped," he reminded her, "But…it worked out, did it not?"

"Did it?" she snorted, "I have spent the last few hours trying to talk to Siobhan. She…she won't even hear me, just sits there, staring at the wall. They have her locked down in the cells with Locien, do you realize that?"

Carver winced.

"No, I…I did not know that, I'm sorry Arika, I know you're her friend."

Arika gave him a sad look, what had happened to her friend was tearing at her.

Sadly, Carver did not know what to say, what could he say to help?

"Why did you have to choose your sister?" she begged, "Why?"

"It was not something I planned Love," he told her, "I originally asked Fen'Harel to take me, let me take up the burden, but he wouldn't…"

"What?!" Arika gasped.

Shit, he thought.

She cuffed him again.

"OW! STOP THAT!" he spat.

"Are you crazy Charity!? You would have…have sacrificed your life to stop that thing?! You would have become that…that thing!"

"I am a warden, in death…sacrifice remember?"

"And what of me?" she shouted, "What would have become of me with you gone? Did you think about that?"

"I was trying to save you," he said hotly, "Fen'Harel showed me the Avatar starting transform you. I could not let that happen! You…you…"

He stammered, the words would not come…

Maker…was every woman he loved angry with him tonight? Was Mother looking down from the Maker's side and glaring at him as well?

_He did not want to think about that._

Arika paused, she was curious about what he was about to say.

"What am I Carver?" she demanded, "What were you about to say?"

He sighed.

"You have had a death wish these last few months, do not try to deny it," he growled, "I have watched you throw yourself into every battle looking for death. I understand Arin's reasons, he feels this is the conclusion to his life, a life without future, but you…you have a future…a future with me."

His statement stopped her cold.

"I saw…I saw myself as unworthy of you," she whispered.

"I love you damn it," he shouted, "You could not get more worthy of me. From what I heard from the others you resisted the Avatar's spell when no one else did? You have proved your strength! In the Vimmarks, that Corypheus bastard caught you unaware, it could have happened to anyone. The fact that you survived that and come back are all the proof I need to know that you are worthy of me, worthy of anyone. I love you Arika, I would gladly give my life to keep you safe, but I will not watch you kill yourself, I refuse to do that."

She looked at him with shock, this…this declaration of love…

She…she had not been prepared for this.

"If anyone is unworthy here, it is I," he told her, "I…I should have given the Avatar a form I did not care about, but instead…I…I did this to my sister. Bethany…she…she never wanted power…ever…and I…I have given her more than any one should ever wield. I…I am a fool Arika, a weak one, all I could think of is what Bethany or Garrett would have done, Fen'Harel picked up on that, and brought my sister back. I…I fear I have damned her, all she ever wanted was to be normal, and now…now she will never be that."

HE sank down onto their bed, he sighed heavily, Maker…he felt so old…the weight of what he had done to his sister's soul was crushing him.

She gave him a sympathetic look, her anger fading at his pain.

She sank down onto the bed next to him.

She took his hand in hers. They sat there for a good long while, saying nothing…just being there…for each other.

Finally, he sighed, she looked at him waiting for him to speak.

IOI

"Did I make a mistake love?" he asked, "Did I make a mistake wanting to see my sister again?"

Her brow furrowed in deep thought.

_How best to respond?_

She chose honesty.

If I…if I could have brought back my Mother, Alden, or Elix, I would have, it…it would have been worth it to see their faces again, to let them know…to tell them I loved them one more time," she shifted her weight slightly leaning in closer, resting her head on his broad shoulder.

"But Bethany," he whispered, "My sister…she has so much to deal with now, and I'm responsible."

She gave him a smile.

"If she is of your blood, raised by your parents. She is strong, I know this because I have seen the strength of your blood, both in Garrett and in you, Beloved. If anyone can contain the powers of this Avatar, it is a Hawke."

Carver was not so sure, he remembered seeing Garrett back in Lowtown, lost in the whirl and power of blood magic.

No, he would not let Bethany get lost in her new powers, he would guide her, help her, remind her of their Father's teachings.

Malcolm Hawke's wisdom would serve her best now, it would keep her free of greed and ambition.

"Thank you, love," he purred softly, "thank you for listening."

"I am yours beloved," she shrugged, "It is my duty to comfort you, to sooth both your mind and body.

Carver smiled.

A thought occurred to him, he had not thought about it in months, not since before Arin had first shown up in their lives.

After everything they had faced on Sundermount, it all came back, he…he did not want to wait anymore.

_He was tired of waiting._

He slid off the bed, he stood before her on bended knee.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"I have a question for you love," he purred.

"Ask Beloved," she replied.

He smiled, part of him wished that his family could be here for this.

In a way…he supposed they were.

"Arika, daughter of Arik and Elosia," he swallowed hard, trying to hold his courage.

Fight an Avatar, no problem, speak his heart, not so easy.

"Arika," he repeated.

"Yes?" she tilted her head.

"My Love, will…will you marry me?"

Arika's eyes widened.

The next step in their lives was about to begin.


	21. Sisters

**Chapter 21: Sisters**

"Am I a prisoner here?"

Bethany stared up into the helmet slit of one of her 'guards,' Commander Cesare had assigned her four men to watch her, they were to remain at her side and make sure that no one tried to harm her.

Even though she stood a full head shorter than the guard, she sensed he was nervous having her so close to him.

_People feared mages that was simply the way it was._

"We have our orders Miss," the man replied, his voice slightly muffled by his helmet, "You are free to move anywhere you wish within the walls of Ansburg, the Commander asks only that you do not try to leave the fortress for the time being, for your own safety of course."

Bethany nodded; at least she was not confined to a room. Even one that was well supplied and decorated would start to feel like a cage after a while.

She glanced at the window, it was still dark outside, but the sky was beginning to lighten. She had slept only a little, and fitfully at that, she had…disturbing dreams, dreams of running in a world of shadow, dreams of darkspawn chasing her, and then…

She shivered.

Dreams of a giant wolf, its eyes glowing bright green, it stood before her, watching her with a blend of amusement, curiosity, and affection.

She should have been afraid, but…for some reason she was not…the giant beast felt…familiar.

_My child,_ the words sang through her mind, _my precious little girl._

She tried to speak, but no words would come out…save one.

_Father._

She awoke then, feeling more anxious than ever.

That is when she decided that she needed to get some air.

"I would like to watch the sunrise," she informed her guard, is there a place where I can do that?"

The guard behind the one she addressed spoke to the one before her.

The two men nodded.

"Follow us, please miss," he said.

She did as he commanded.

She made no fuss as they led her down the corridors.

She needed to know the full limits of her mobility here.

She observed all the entrances and passageways as they led her down the hall, she would need to learn them quickly.

This knowledge could be useful one day.

The group passed by an old warden tapestry without even a second glance.

Arin emerged once they were gone.

He frowned.

He had wished to introduce himself to the young woman, but the Commander's guards had refused him access.

"Go about your business reaver," one of them had said, "The commander has no use for your kind at this time."

Arin was tempted to force the issue, to show these fools what happened when you blocked a reaver's path.

Sadly, that went against the contract he had made with Stroud months ago.

He had sworn not to harm any of the wardens here in Ansburg.

So he had left, he clearly would not be allowed an audience with Bethany…

Of course, they had said nothing about him waiting for her to emerge.

He had heard most of the conversation that had passed between the guards and magical little charge.

She said she had wished to watch the sun come up.

The Reaver smiled.

A place came to his mind.

He would have to hurry, but the wardens would take the most secure route, the Commander clearly wanted the girl treated like glass.

He would take a shortcut, and arrive ahead of them.

He wanted to see her, to see what kind of woman she was, Carver had impressed him, he had great skill and honor…for a lowlander anyway…

Arin wondered if his sister shared those traits, or had the Avatar crafted the girl into a weapon of war?

Either would make a woman prized in his culture.

He was extremely curious to find out which she was.

_Tread lightly, you risk much to sate your curiosity, to see if this girl is more than just a pretty face, she may have been born of magic, but her soul is still that of a lowlander. Most lowlanders see reavers as little more than animals._

That thought gave him pause.

_What would she say when she saw him? How would the guards react?_

_Would they demand that he leave if he was already there? Would she wish to be alone?_

He could not say, but the chance to see her, to finally speak with her…it was worth the risk.

He would have to move quickly, but that did not bother him.

Before Sundermount, he had considered his life at an end that he had been living on borrowed time.

It would be interesting to discover that he had been wrong.

IOI

Solen groaned as he slipped out of bed.

Pulling on his clothes, the young elf rose quietly, being careful not to disturb his sleeping family. His brothers and sister would complain bitterly if he woke them before they were ready.

Sadly…he could not sleep in…he had work.

He slipped quietly out the door and into the cool morning air.

Shivering he rubbed his chest and arms. A few days ago he had thought that he had given up this life forever, that once the Avatar had risen, he would be a part of history. He had thought that his path to greatness would be assured by being involved in such a historical event. Locien had promised them everything would change when the Avatar rose.

_We were going to change the face of the world._

Yet here he was, back in Ansburg, back living in their small home, with his parents and siblings.

He was back to being a simple elven stable boy.

Behold the conquering hero; he thought glumly, he shook his head.

He wasn't sure if this was a blessing or a punishment. Keeper Locien's way had been all about vengeance and blood. Solen had never wanted that. He still believed that the elves could be better than the humans, that they should be better.

All he had wanted was to have the humans look upon them with respect, to look upon him with respect.

Locien had promised them that, respect, fear, and more.

He had failed to deliver anything like that.

Solen cursed under his breath, so many of his friends had died on Sundermount, Kelinda had died.

The Avatar was here, but…she had changed nothing!

He entered the stables, his nose wrinkled at the smell of horse dung and hay.

The horses whickered as he passed by; he checked the water trough, and the hay bales. Before first light he would need to bring one of the Stallions to the blacksmith, it needed to be fitted for a new shoe.

One of the mares nuzzled his side.

He smiled slightly.

He actually had a way with them, animals had always identified with him, even when he was a child.

That was the saddest part of all about his life.

_He was actually a very good stable boy._

He went to pat the mare's flank.

His hand started to glow.

Cursing he did his best to hide it, the horse snorted, the magic in him had startled it, it backed away.

He tried to will the glow to stop, but it was no use, it had been getting harder and harder to hide his magic. One day someone who did not like him would see it. They would tell someone else, and they would likely tell the Templars.

Then it would be off to Kirkwall…

Off to the gallows.

"Solen?"

A terrified squeak escaped his throat, he plunged his hands into his pockets.

Lin stood there, her eyes concerned, glittering beneath her hooded cowl.

"You don't have to hide what you are from me brother," she reminded him, "You saved my life on Sundermount, and even if you hadn't…I'm your big sister, I won't turn you in."

He sighed heavily, showing her his hands; the blue glow still limed them.

It faded as quickly as it had begun.

"I can't control it anymore," he said sadly, "It…it is getting stronger."

"Your powers are maturing brother," she shrugged, "There is nothing to be ashamed of in that."

He laughed fatalistically, that was easy for her to say.

He would be lucky if some Templar did not kill him on sight.

"They are going to take me away," he moaned, "They'll drag me off to some circle and throw away the key. I'll never see mother and father again…I…I'll never see you again. I…I don't want that…any of it!"

Lin concerned how to help her brother, there had to be a better alternative than the circle. Carver had told her about the Gallows, the rumors about the Templars in Kirkwall.

She did not wish to see her brother subjected to that.

"Perhaps I can convince one of the warden mages here to train you," she suggested.

"Do you honestly think some shem mage will take on an elvhen apprentice?" he asked.

"The Dalish then," she offered, "They respect magical talent."

"I fought Dalish sister," he reminded her, "I killed one, and then I helped bring the Avatar of Fen'Harel into our world. I seriously doubt any Dalish Keeper would take me in now."

Lin's elven ears twitched, there had to be a solution to all this.

She had no desire to see her little brother locked up in the Gallows like some prisoner, but at the same time…

She had seen what Siobhan had nearly turned into, if Alistair had not been there…

She…she did not want to think on what could have happened.

The demons would be after Solen now, Siobhan had spoken in camp about them, how they whisper to mages, how seductive their promises could be.

She could not imagine her little brother turning into an abomination, but the threat of that was there…and it was very, very real.

She did not want to think about that.

Solen turned from her, grabbing a pitchfork.

"I have to get back to work sister," he said sadly, "If the stable master sees me talking and not working I will get the switch."

She left him to his work.

As she walked back towards the keep her mouth settled into a grim hard line.

She would not give up hope, there had to be some way to help Solen that did not involve turning him over to the Templars.

She would talk with some of the mages that lived here.

One of them had to be willing to help her.

She would not leave her little brother to suffer alone.

She would not!

IOI

Bethany journeyed to the eastern tower of the Fortress of Ansburg. One of the guards assigned to her promised that she would have an excellent view of the sunrise here.

She found herself hoping that the man was right.

The five of them emerged through a small trapdoor, the eastern tower was quiet for now, guards patrolled the walkways on the surround, but for the moment, the mage had the tower to herself. Two guards took up position near the trap door while the other two stood a respectful distance behind her.

Bethany rolled her eyes, what did these men think she was going to do…jump?

She watched as the sky began to lighten in the east, the clouds turned red orange and pink, slowly the sun peaked over the horizon, lighting up the whole of the Free Marches.

Bethany gasped.

The view actually took her breath away.

It was quite beautiful, spectacular even; she closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the cool breeze on her face and the warm sunlight on her skin.

This simple pleasure was almost enough to make her forget everything that Carver had told her last night…

Almost.

Four years, she…she could not believe four years had passed.

Everything had changed while she had…had…been gone. Garrett was a nobleman now; he had claimed their grandparents' estate in Kirkwall. Carver was a Grey Warden, a newly minted lieutenant who had spent the last few years battling demon and darkspawn both.

It seemed her twin had found the life he had been looking for, none would dare say that he stood in Garrett's shadow now. Carver had found his place in the world.

Mother was…

Bethany shivered, she…she did not want to believe what Carver had told her about their Mother.

Mother was gone…murdered…Garrett had dealt with the killer, but he had been too late to save her.

It was just another thing, she thought, another example of how she no longer belonged in this world. Four years had passed, the world had moved on, Garrett and Carver had moved on…

And now here she was…alive…alive in a world that made no sense to her anymore.

Bethany closed her eyes.

Perhaps it would have been better if Carver had just let her stay dead. As the sun continued to rise, she realized that she was not quite as alone up here as she had thought. A lone warrior stood across the way from her, he had dirty blonde hair and foxlike features his armor was a mix of leather, steel, and fur. He nodded to her in greetings, which she returned.

He had been so silent, how had she not seen him earlier?

Had he been watching her?

"Milady," he said with a polite nod.

"Hello." She said shyly.

One of the guards drew his sword, he advanced on the man.

"You are not welcome here reaver," the soldier growled.

Reaver?

Bethany shuddered.

Her Father...her human father…had told her stories about the reavers of Nevarra, it was said that they drank the blood of dragons, that by doing so they became as fierce and as tough as any of those mighty beasts.

Bethany was not sure if that was true or not, but simply by glancing at the man it was clear that he was not just a common soldier.

The reaver did not bother addressing the guard, he already knew what they would say if he asked to stay.

He chose to turn to her instead.

"I mean no harm Milady, he said holding up his hands, "I…I merely came out here to get some air."

She watched him carefully for a moment, trying to decide if what he said was true.

Does it really matter, a little voice in the back of her head said, so what if he is up here, you have guards and your magic.

Why would you need to fear this one?

All he could do was kill her; she did not fear that anymore. She felt…numb, perhaps it was simply the shock of waking up a finding out how everything had changed?

Or perhaps… she was less human than she thought.

Either way she saw no reason to alienate this man.

"You don't have to leave," she offered, "Please…stay…I've only just got here, it would be nice to talk to someone."

He smiled and approached her.

The Commander's guards started to tense, but a look from her stopped them in their tracks.

As long as the reaver did not try and hurt her, they would do nothing.

He came up beside her, and together they watched the sunrise.

Bethany fidgeted, it had been a long time since she had been around anyone who was not part of her family, at least it had been…

Bethany pinched the bridge of her nose.

Maker …this is all so confusing!

"I am Arin," the young reaver informed her. Despite all the things she had heard about the Reavers of Nevarra, this Arin did not seem like the type, he was polite for one. All the readings her mother had shared with her had always said that reavers were monsters.

People said that mages were monsters too after all; maybe they were wrong about both groups.

He tilted his head curiously; she realized that she had not answered his greeting yet.

She cursed herself.

"Bethany," she replied shyly.

She had almost said her name was Bethany Hawke, but was that true any longer?

She truly did not know.

As the sun began to rise higher, she noticed several more things about him, the strange tattoo on his chin, and the great sword that he carried on his back, if he tried to attack her, would she survive?

She looked closer at him, he was no longer watching the sun, his eyes had turned to the snow swept mountains in the distance.

He…he looked so sad.

"What is the matter?" she asked.

I'm thinking about my home," He told her, "I…I have been gone for quite some time now."

"Really," she answered, "Are…are you a Grey Warden then?"

"No," he replied, "I…am simply a hireling, my sister is warden, she…she serves with your brother actually."

That got her attention.

"Do you know my brother well?" she asked.

"We have fought together for a few months now. I…I was on Sundermount with him actually."

Bethany flinched, she…she had little memory of Sundermount. It was all fuzzy, her thoughts her emotions it made little sense.

Nothing had made sense until she had woken in the medical wing here.

She looked nervously at him.

"Then…you…you know who I am," she whispered, "You…you know what I am?"

He gave her a sad look, he…he wished he could say something to comfort her, sadly…he had no talent for such things.

"You are a woman," he a said quietly.

"And more," she added.

"I suppose so," he said with a shrug.

His response shocked her, he…he had been their when she had been…born…resurrected, and it did not seem to bother him, was he really that indifferent, or…or was he simply braver than most.

She truly could not say.

They both fell silent then, simply enjoying the morning breeze, the sun's kiss on their faces.

His eyes never left the mountains, they were not the ones he had grown up in, but they still made him think of home.

"This world is not like my home," he said thoughtfully, "the lowlanders are not like my people, they…they do not understand."

Bethany nodded, right now…she could see what he meant, she was not yet sure about this world, the world that her brother had summoned her back into.

She was…she felt so…alone.

"I don't belong here," she said flatly, "This…place…this world, everything I knew is now gone."

He sighed.

"It is not easy is it," he said, "knowing that your home is gone, feeling out of place with strangers, people that look at you…and see only…a monster."

Bethany shivered, they had passed several elven servants in the hall, they hurried past, hoping not to catch her eye, or they made a symbol with their fingers over their heart.

She did not know how she recognized it but she did.

It was meant to ward off evil.

Is that what she was?

She shivered.

It…it had been good to see Carver…to speak with him, but…she could sense that he looked at her with fear now too. He…he was still not sure if she was his sister or not.

Perhaps she wasn't, perhaps this was all some cruel joke.

This reaver…this…Arin seemed to understand.

"What do we do?" she asked him.

He gave her a small smile.

"For now…we enjoy the morning, after that…I…I do not know."

Bethany nodded, it made sense she supposed. She would try to enjoy this moment.

But later…she would need answers.

_What was she?_

_Was she still Bethany Hawke or something else entirely?_

_How had this been done to her, how had the elves managed to do the impossible?_

_How had they managed to raise the dead?_

So many questions, far more than might ever get all the answers to, still she had to try.

She would find out who she truly was.

It was the only thing that mattered now.

She needed to talk to the mage who started all this.

She needed to speak to the elf that Carver mentioned…this Loki…

He would tell her what she needed to know….

…And if he didn't…

Bethany's eyes flared with emerald magic.

_Maker save him, because no one else would._


	22. Epilogue: Plans for the Future

**Epilogue: Plans for the Future**

Locien was not happy.

The elvhen mage glared angrily at the wards that surrounded his cell, they blocked any attempt at magic the elf could think of.

It was…intolerable, he…he could not even heal the black eye that Solen had given him. A Dalish curse hissed from his lips.

_It had all gone wrong, horribly, miserably, __**wrong!**_

The shemlen filth had ruined everything! Summoning the Avatar had been his life's work! He had given up everything to see to the rise of their new world, and now…now…

_The filthy diseased shemlen had stolen that too!_

This…this was not how it was supposed to be! The Avatar should have conquered Kirkwall by now! An army of werewolves should be sweeping out across the Free Marches. The dawn of the elvhen should be beginning, but…it was not. The shemlen had stolen the Avatar from him, stolen his godhood from him!

_Damn them, damn them all to the darkest of pits!_

_May Fen'Harel dine on their flesh, may he crack the marrow from their bones!_

An elf, the Avatar should have been born an elf. An elf from the days of ancient Arlathan, oh…the secrets such a mage would have brought back from the realm of the dead.

How powerful the Avatar should have been.

Instead, that bastard Carver had ruined everything; he had wasted all of Fen'Harel's gifts. He had profaned it…he had turned the Avatar into a shemlen, a…weak willed, apostate farm girl!

It was insulting…it was beyond insulting!

The door to the dungeon creaked open.

Locien did his best to center himself.

Were these to be his executioners?

He suspected that it would be so; the shemlen would not risk someone of his brilliance around them any longer.

_They had his life's work now, what further use could he be to them?_

Two guards stood before his cell, he could not see their faces because of their helmets.

"On your feet elf," one of them growled, "The Commander wishes to speak with you."

He rose as they unlocked the cell door; he did nothing to rouse their suspicions.

He thought of escape, once he was away from these wards, he would have his magic back.

They entered the cell, checking his manacles, making sure they were good and tight.

One of the guards scratched his hand with a sharpened ring.

He hissed and glared at the shem.

"It is done," the soldier said, "We will leave in five minutes."

Locien did not understand…what were the two fools talking about?

The minutes passed, an unpleasant buzzing sensation began in his ears, he shook his head to clear it, but it was no use.

He rubbed his hand where the shem had scratched him; there was a powdery substance on the wound.

"Poison," he spat.

So the commander expected him to die like that.

The guard shook his head.

"Mage bane," he informed him, "it won't kill you, won't even hurt you, but you will have no magic for the next few hours. The Commander wants this conversation to be on an even playing field."

Locien suppressed a curse; of course the Antivan would be prepared for his magic.

Cesare was many things; stupid was not one of them.

Once the guards were certain the mage bane had done its work, they were off.

Locien tried to weave even the most basic spell, the damn buzzing in his head stopped him for concentrating…

His elven ears twitched.

The Commander was going through a lot of trouble for a simple execution.

Perhaps…perhaps there was still a way to turn all this to his advantage.

He would simply have to wait and see.

The guards led him straight to the Commander's office. Cesare stood behind his desk, his back turned, staring down into the courtyard.

The guards forced Locien to sit in a chair.

The Commander still did not acknowledge him.

The elf mage smirked; the human's attempt at power games did not impress him.

Locien was patient, he could wait.

"You have been a very bad little elf my friend," Cesare said without bothering to turn.

Locien sneered.

"Everything that I have done is for the betterment of my race. I make no excuses."

Only then did the Commander turn to face him, his eyes cold, his bearing arrogant.

"If I had known what you were planning brother," he began, "I might have been able to assign you some security. Your spell would have remained yours."

The elf snorted.

"You mean you would have tried to seize the Avatar for yourself. Perhaps placed a soul you could trust within it," Locien shook his head, "The Avatar belongs to the elvhen people, but like everything else in our world, humans seek to seize it for their own uses."

Cesare smiled.

"Do not play the elven victim with me Warden Locien," he sneered, "You are no good at it. I speak the truth. If you had come to me, we could have decided on a soul that would have served both our needs. Perhaps when of the elvhen grey warden heroes of the past, someone who had given their life for the order could have been very useful.

Locien's ears twitched, the fool still did not understand.

The Avatar had been destined to end the world of men.

Still…perhaps there was still a chance to secure his freedom, and to find a way back into the Avatar's world.

_She may yet still be useful to the elves._

"Say that I had come to you," he said, "what would you have done with the power of the Avatar?"

The Commander's smile widened.

"I have a dream master elf," Cesare began, "a dream where the Wardens have stretched out their hand and become a true power in the Free Marches. I was willing to take my time and build up my power base slowly, but you…you have given me something that will allow me to step up my time table drastically, I am grateful to you for that."

The Dalish's ears twitched with amusement.

"I'm listening," he said.

"The people of Thedas see the Grey Wardens as an archaic order. Most do not even acknowledge that the world faced a blight eight years ago. In time…our sacrifices will be forgotten again. I do not intend to let our order slip into obscurity. We need to seize greater power for ourselves."

"And you see the Avatar as a means to speed up your plans," Locien said.

Cesare nodded.

"I've heard what happened on Sundermount. You have brought into this world a weapon with limitless destructive power, a weapon that now wears the most unassuming of camouflage."

Locien paused, he…he had not considered that. An ancient elvhen priest would have drawn a lot of attention, perhaps too much.

This Bethany Hawke would not; the Chantry and Templars would see her simply as another mage…

Until it was too late.

"If I had control over the Avatar when I was still with the Crows, I would likely be ruling all of Antiva by now," Cesare said smirking, "I know an ambitious man when I see one Brother Locien, you want more than simply to help your people, you want power of your own."

Locien shrugged, what was good for him was good for all of the elvhen.

He was the future of his people; they simply did not know it yet.

"What do you propose…Commander?"

Cesare leaned back in his chair, his eyes roamed over the fortress that was his domain…

A domain he would see expanded.

"I wish to know all there is about this…Avatar creature, how it was summoned, how you intended to control it…everything."

"The summoning was my life's work," the elf informed him, "I know much, but I find myself curious of why I should share my knowledge with you? You clearly do not share my vision for the future of my race."

"You do not trust me?" the Commander asked.

The elf shook his head no.

"Good," Cesare replied, "Because I do not trust you either. I suspect when the time comes we shall grapple for the power of the Avatar, but that…is for another day. Today we must come up with a plan to make her useful to us when the time comes."

Locien shook his head; the shem was as blind as he was arrogant. The Avatar was the future of the elven race. He would no more let the Commander have it then he would give it to the Qunari.

The Commander was a slippery one. He had no doubt that Cesare was already considering how best to betray him. Locien would have to be careful, but he believed that he could beat the shem at his own game.

When all was said and done, it would be Cesare who would be just another slave.

"Tell me Master Elf," Cesare said extending his hand, "Do we have a deal, will we work to exploit the Avatar together?"

The elf mage tapped his chin thoughtfully.

Finally, he smiled.

He extended his hand.

"We…have an accord Commander…for now."

"Magnificent," Cesare said as he shook Locien's hand, he summoned his guards back into the room; they removed Locien's manacles and chains.

_They would be working together now._

The elf sneered evilly.

He would use this fool to get everything he wanted. Even a profaned Avatar was better than nothing. He would use her to take his revenge on Carver and the other shems who had ruined his dreams. When the time came, he would likely have to step up and rule in the Avatar's name.

Fen'Harel would honor him for his trickery and cunning.

He would offer up the entire world to his god, and then…then…

The elves would have the new world he had promised.

A world that he would rule and his people would love him for it

Locien was pleased.

He would succeed in this…he did not doubt that.

It was the will of his god.

The world would belong to the Children of Fen'Harel.

It was now…

…only a matter of time.

**TO BE CONCLUDED**

**A/N: The Grey Trilogy will conclude with my story the Grey Avatar. I thank you all for your wonderful reviews, and look forward to reading more with the release of the final chapter of this tale.**

**Also, sometime in the near future, I will be continuing Hawke and Isabela's story from Love and Legacy. Look for cameos of many of the characters I have used here.**

**If you have not read it yet, what happened to Isabela and Garrett in this story was told in my one-shot, Broken Promise.**

**Until next time, my dear readers.**

**DG**


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